LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEO , 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA OF NAPI 




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LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 
OF NAPLES 

A FORGOTTEN HEROINE 



LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
Translated from the German by 
GEORGE P. UPTON 

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Jl/TARIA SOPHIA 
J- rJ. Queen of Naples 



Life Stories for Young People 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 
OF NAPLES 

A FORGOTTEN HEROINE 

Translated from the German of 
Carl Kuchler 

BY 

GEORGE P. UPTON 

Author of " Musical Memories " "Standard Operas" etc. 
Translator of "Memories " " Immense e" etc. 

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS 




CHICAGO 
A. C. McCLURG Esf CO. 
1910 



Copyright 
A. C. McClurg & Co. 
1910 

Published September 24, 1910 



THE • PLIMPTON • PRESS 

[W.D.O] 
NORWOOD • MASS • U • S • A 



©CIA273439 



{translator'* preface 



HE story of the exiled Queen of Naples, Maria 



Sophia, as the title-page of this little volume 
sets forth, is the story of a "forgotten 
heroine." In many respects it recalls the story of 
her sister, Elizabeth of Hungary, though her fate 
was not so tragic. She was saved from the fury 
of the assassin; but she revealed many of her 
sister's attributes — the same courage, the same 
beauty, the same gayety of disposition, clouded in 
much the same manner, the same love of nature and 
of animals, the same love of the people, the same 
domestic misfortunes. Her comparatively brief sov- 
ereignty included a thrilling period of the struggle 
for Italian unity. Her marriage was a brilliant one, 
her honeymoon most strange, and her after life most 
lonely. She was a strong woman united to a weak 
man, not of her choice and not honored by her love. 
She had many faults, but of her heroism the siege of 
Gaeta will always bear witness. The other figures 
in the story, the fascinating Lola Montez, Count 
Cavour, the great statesman, King Victor Emanuel, 
King "Bomba," and the red-shirted Garibaldi, add 




[v] 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 



to its picturesqueness, and the manners and customs 
of the court of Bavaria as well as the sketches of 
the Wittelsbachs are not without historic interest. 

G. P. U. 

Chicago, July, 1910. 



[vi] 



Content* 



Chapter Page 

I The House of Wittelsbach .... n 

II Life at Munich and Possenhofen . 17 

III Political Disturbances in Bavaria . . 24 

IV The Wittelsbach Sisters 31 

V The Neapolitan Royal Family ... 37 

VI Maria Sophia's Arrival 44 

VII A Strange Honeymoon 50 

VIII Accession of Francis II and Maria Sophia 57 

IX Garibaldi 63 

X The Flight from Naples 70 

XI Siege of Gaeta 81 

XII Capitulation 90 

XIII After the Fall of Gaeta 98 

XIV Royalty in Exile 105 

XV Conclusion 112 

Appendix 121 

[vii] 



Jiiuattatton* 

Maria Sophia, Queen of Naples . . Frontispiece 
Maria Sophia at the Time of Accession . . 48 
Francis the Second, King of Naples ... 58 
Francis the Second, in his Sixtieth Year . .114 



[ix] 



£lueen fl^arta £>oplrta of iUapie* 



k HE house of Wittelsbach, one of the most 



ancient of the royal families of Europe, was 



divided, toward the end of the eighteenth 
century, into three branches. The old Elector, Karl 
Theodore, who died in 1799, was without issue, and 
his successor, Maximilian of the Pfalz-Zweibriicken 
line, became the founder of a new dynasty. Being 
the third son, there had seemed little prospect of 
succeeding to the throne in his earlier years, most 
of which were spent in the strictest seclusion at 
Mannheim and Zweibriicken. Later, he entered the 
French army and until the outbreak of the French 
Revolution was stationed as colonel at Strassburg, 
where the jovial warrior made himself most popular, 
not only in military but in social circles. 

In 1785 he was married to Princess Augusta of 
Hesse-Darmstadt, by whom he had two sons, Lud- 
wig (his successor) and Karl, and three daughters, 
one of whom died in childhood. Augusta, the 




The House of Wittelsbach 




[11] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



second, married Eugene Beauharnais, while Char- 
lotte, the youngest, became the fourth wife of Em- 
peror Francis the First of Austria. Maximilian's first 
wife died early, and in 1796 he formed a second and 
equally happy alliance with the Princess Caroline 
of Baden, who presented him with six daughters, of 
whom three became queens of Saxony and Prussia, 
and the two youngest, the mothers of Emperor 
Francis Joseph of Austria and the Empress Eliza- 
beth, respectively. 

The branch of the Wittelsbachs to which Maxi- 
milian belonged was divided into two lines, both 
descending from the Count Palatine, Christian the 
First. A cousin, the Count Palatine Wilhelm of 
Zweibriicken-Birkenfeld, had hopes of securing the 
Electoral seat at Munich for himself, especially as 
ancient tradition required that a portion of the 
domain should fall to the share of the younger branch 
of the family. As Wilhelm had but one child, how- 
ever, a son who was feeble-minded and under con- 
stant guardianship, an agreement was made between 
the cousins that in future there should be no division 
of the Wittelsbach possessions. Maximilian was to 
succeed to the Electorship of Bavaria undisturbed, 
in return for which the reigning sovereign was to 
treat the descendants of Count Wilhe ] m as his own. 
The younger branch was to rank equally with the 
older and to receive a large share of the ancestral 
possessions, with a handsome yearly income and 
the title of "Dukes in Bavaria." 

[12] 



WITTELSB ACH 



In accordance with this agreement, Maximilian 
became Elector of Bavaria, which was raised by 
Napoleon to the dignity of a kingdom in 1806, and 
in 1818 granted a constitution by its sovereign. 
Maximilian was much beloved by his subjects and 
so simple and patriarchal in his dealings with them 
that he was generally known as the "Citizen King." 
On his birthday, October 12, 1825, he was present 
at a ball given in his honor by the Russian ambas- 
sador, full of life and vigor as usual, and the next 
morning was found dead in his severely simple bed- 
chamber at Schloss Nymphenburg. 

Duke Wilhelm of Birkenfeld long survived him, 
and it now devolved upon the new King, Ludwig the 
First, to carry out the family compact. Meanwhile 
Wilhelm's son, Duke Pius, had also died, leaving 
one son, Duke Max. Almost from the birth of this 
prince it had been decided that he should marry 
King Maximilian's youngest daughter Ludovica, who 
was born the same year, and on the ninth of Septem- 
ber, 1828, the marriage was duly celebrated, three 
months before the bridegroom had reached his 
twentieth year. Although dictated by family rea- 
sons, this marriage proved a remarkably happy one. 
The two young people had grown up together, know- 
ing that they were to be united for life, and were 
sincerely attached to each other. Their honey- 
moon was spent in the Bavarian Alps with Ludo- 
vica's mother, the widowed Queen Caroline, at her 
Summer home at Tegernsee* At the time of the 

[13] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



King's death, two of the daughters were still un- 
married and the constant companions of their 
mother, to whom they were devoted, and Ludovica's 
marriage made no change in their life except that 
a son-in-law was added to the family circle. 

Duke Max at that time was called the hand- 
somest prince in , Europe. He was slender and well 
built, with a distinguished ease of manner and a 
graciousness that won the hearts of all with whom 
he came in contact, regardless of class or station. 
Naturally gay and light-hearted, fond of pleasure 
and society, an accomplished musician and com- 
poser, with a passion for nature and out-of-door life, 
it is small wonder that he was universally adored. 
Even his mother-in-law, to whose age and habits 
his lack of seriousness did not at first especially 
appeal, was completely won by his devotion to her 
and her daughter, and his constant efforts to divert 
and entertain them. When the famous violinist, 
Paganini, came to Munich, Max invited him to visit 
the castle at Tegernsee and sent one of the royal 
carriages to meet him. He often arranged amateur 
concerts, to which all the neighboring families were 
invited, and whiled away the long Autumn evenings 
playing and singing with his friend Petzmacher, the 
zither-player. 

Ludovica was very different from her husband. 
She disliked meeting people, cared nothing for social 
life or gayety, and had an abhorrence for noise or 
confusion of any kind. Max was a great admirer 

[14] 



WITTELSB ACH 



of the fair sex and made no concealment of the fact. 
He had the true artist nature, sanguine, impulsive, 
and susceptible, and must have caused the Duchess 
many unhappy hours, innocent as most of the 
love affairs attributed to him seem to have been. 
Whatever her feelings were, however, she care- 
fully concealed them from the eyes of the world. 
To all appearances the relations between her and 
her husband were most harmonious. In many ways, 
too, their opposite temperaments were of mutual 
advantage. His cheerfulness and careless gayety 
often banished the fits of melancholy to which she 
was subject, while her firmness and good sense 
proved a balance to his volatile nature, and they 
were united in their love of nature and country life. 

The first three years of their marriage were child- 
less, but in 183 1 the Duchess presented her husband 
with an heir, who was named Ludwig, for the King. 
As time went on the family circle increased. The 
oldest daughter, Helene, was born in 1834. On 
Christmas Eve of 1837, Elizabeth came into the 
world, followed, in the Summer of 1839, by a second 
son, Karl Theodore. On the fourth of October, 1841, 
at Possenhofen, the Duchess gave birth to her third 
daughter, Maria Sophia Amalia, the future Queen 
of Naples. Two years later, Mathilde Ludovica 
was born. On the twenty-second of February, 
1847, the youngest daughter of the ducal pair, 
Sophie Charlotte Augusta, made her appearance at 
Munich, and on the seventh of December, 1849, 

[is] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



their youngest son, Maximilian Emanuel was born, 
also in Munich. 

Nearly all these children were destined to bring 
sorrow or anxiety to their parents. The Duke's 
mercurial nature helped him to bear and rise 
above these troubles, but they sank deep into 
Ludovica's heart. But she was sustained by her 
religion and a firm faith in Providence, whose decrees 
she bore with dignity and patience. Little as she 
spoke of it, devotion to her children was the ruling 
passion of her life. She never was diverted, by any 
consideration, from what she felt to be her duty 
toward them; and while her methods of training did 
not bear equal fruit with all, they loved her devotedly 
in return and always regarded her with the deepest 
respect and confidence. 



[16] 



Chapter II 
Life at Munich and Possenhofen 



P to the end of the first half of the last century- 



intellectual and artistic development had 



made little progress in Bavaria. Weimar 
had become famous as the home of Goethe and 
Schiller, Herder and Wieland, but Munich was still 
merely a provincial town, not so large by half as it 
is to-day, while the many gardens scattered about 
among the houses gave it an almost rustic air. The 
population consisted chiefly of artisans, with a few 
wealthy citizens, the students of the university, and 
court attaches. Visitors to the capital at that time 
were few. Of social life, so called, there was prac- 
tically none, and the free mingling of all classes in 
public places suggested Italian popular life, espe- 
cially after King Ludwig's plans for beautifying the 
city had begun to attract thither artists of all coun- 
tries and ages. 

With the kings of Bavaria, however, a new order 
of things was instituted. Ludwig the First, who 
succeeded Maximilian, was far ahead of most Ger- 
man princes of his time in learning and culture. 
In early youth he had made himself conspicuous 
by his hatred of Napoleon, although the conqueror 




[17] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



had been his father's friend and ally. At the Con- 
gress of Vienna, Talleyrand had called him a clever 
madman, and he had been laughed at for his 
intense enthusiasm over everything pertaining to 
Germanism. His frequent sojourns in Rome were 
destined to be of the greatest importance to the 
art life of Germany, for, on ascending the throne, he 
swore to make his capital a city of such prominence 
that "no one should know Germany who had not 
seen Munich"; and to his honor be it said that he 
not only kept this vow, but did so with compara- 
tively small means at his command. Thanks to 
his zeal and energy the finances of the country were 
soon in excellent condition. Most economical as to 
his own personal expenses, he devoted large sums 
to the purchase of rare treasures for the art collec- 
tions he had planned for his capital, and employed 
a number of distinguished artists and architects to 
beautify the city, which now possesses many imper- 
ishable reminders of this art-loving sovereign. 

Few royal houses of the present day can furnish 
examples of such harmony and attachment between 
different branches of the family as that of Wittels- 
bach exhibited. The relations between King Lud- 
wig and Duke Max were always most affectionate, 
and the brothers-in-law had many tastes and char- 
acteristics in common. Both were full of originality 
and energy, and both had a genuine love of art, the 
King having a great fondness for painting and poetry, 
while Max devoted himself principally to music. It 
[I8] 



LIFE AT MUNICH 



was Ludwig the First who instituted the famous 
artist balls in Munich, which he and the Duke rarely 
failed to attend, and there was seldom a concert 
given at the Academy of Music where both royal 
and ducal families were not to be seen seated in the 
dress circle just behind the orchestra. However 
pressing the affairs of state, the King never failed 
to take part in the many religious festivals observed 
by the Church, and on All Saints' Day he invariably 
made a visit to the cemetery accompanied by all his 
relatives. 

While Ludwig was busy erecting his magnificent 
public edifices, Max employed himself building and 
rebuilding palaces. Possenhofen, where most of his 
children were born, was the favorite residence both 
of himself and his family, although they usually 
spent the Winters in Munich; and here, in the years 
1833—183 5 the celebrated architect, Leo von Klenze, 
built for them a magnificent residence in the Lud- 
wigstrasse. Rank and state, however, by no means 
excluded simple kindliness and true hospitality from 
the splendid halls of the Duke and Duchess. They 
frequently gave large balls w T hich were eagerly 
looked forward to by the younger set in the aris- 
tocratic world of Munich. Duke Max always stood 
by the door to welcome his guests on these occa- 
sions, offering each lady a bouquet of flowers with 
true knightly gallantry. Fountains plashed in the 
huge ballroom where inviting seats were placed here 
and there among groups of splendid foliage plants, 

[19] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



while from behind a leafy screen floated the strains 
of an orchestra inviting to the dance. All chatted, 
laughed, and danced with perfect unconstraint, and 
the Duke was always the gayest of the gay, with 
the right word for every one. 

During Lent the Duke and Duchess issued invita- 
tions for a series of concerts. Again the spacious 
rooms were turned into gardens. Comfortable 
chairs were arranged among masses of rose-bushes, 
and during pauses in the music refreshments were 
served and the guests promenaded about conversing 
gayly. It was never crowded, never too warm or 
too cool, in these splendid salons, and Duke Max's 
entertainments were counted as the choicest plea- 
sures of the Winter. 

In the great courtyard of the palace he had a ring 
made where exhibitions of fancy riding were given 
before the ladies of the family and a few invited 
guests, Max himself often taking part. This became 
the favorite resort of his daughters in Winter, who 
would spend whole days there exercising, with their 
dogs and horses for companions, and it was here 
that Elizabeth of Austria and Maria Sophia of 
Naples acquired the skill that afterward made them 
the most perfect horsewomen of their day. 

Properly to classify a plant it is necessary to 
study the soil that has nourished it. That from 
which the Wittelsbach sisters sprung was Bavarian, 
of course, but more accurately speaking, the region 
about Possenhofen and Starnberg Lake, whither the 

[20] 



LIFE AT MUNICH 



family repaired every year with the first signs of 
Spring. The shores of Starnberg are fringed with 
castles, among them the solitary Schloss Feldafing, 
whence King Ludwig the Second flung himself into 
the waters of the lake. Back of these are many 
small villages interspersed with villas built by artists 
from Munich. Between lie stretches of dark pine 
forest or clumps of lighter beeches, their branches 
drooping over the surface of the water, while as a 
background to this entrancing scene rise majestic 
mountain peaks. Possenhofen was known in the 
twelfth century as "Pozzo's Hof." In the fifteenth 
it was presented by the Palatine Friedrich von 
Scheyern-Wittelsbach to a neighboring convent, but 
later it came into the possession of the Elector Fer- 
dinand Maria of Bavaria, a peace-loving prince, 
who made Starnberg Lake the scene of many splen- 
did fetes. In 1834 Duke Max bought the castle, 
had the outer wall and vaulted gateway torn down 
and the moat filled in, thus making room for the 
large gardens that now surround Possenhofen. Out- 
wardly the building was allowed to retain its original 
form, but the interior was completely changed. Four- 
post bedsteads, huge antique stoves, and chests of 
olden days were replaced by modern furniture and 
conveniences. An additional wing or two made 
room for guests, and a chapel was built, connecting 
the ancient edifice with its newer parts. The castle 
courtyard and gardens are still surrounded by a 
high wall, extending along the shore of the lake, and 

[21] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



this with the old towers forms the last link with 
those days when Pozzo's Hof served not only as a 
residence for its noble masters, but also as a strong- 
hold against the enemies of the prince and people. 
Inside the wall rises the huge pile of reddish yellow 
stone, its whole eastern side covered with a natural 
mantle of ivy, making an attractive picture against 
the fresh green of the park and the gardens, with 
their flower-beds and fountains. 

Duke Max and his family may be said to have 
grown up with this beautiful spot. Here he brought 
his bride one bright summer morning; here they 
spent their happiest days together, far from the 
burdensome restrictions of court etiquette; here 
their children received their first impressions of life; 
and hither they always returned with a feeling of 
joy and comfort no other place could offer. The 
young princesses spent long days riding and swim- 
ming, training their dogs and horses, or clambering 
about on the mountain tops. It was this life in the 
open air that stamped them with so marked an in- 
dividuality and gave them their love of freedom and 
simplicity. They were quite at home among the 
country folk and deeply resented any slight or injury 
to their mountain friends. In this, however, they 
merely followed the example set them by their 
parents. The beautiful home at Possenhofen had 
roots stretching far out into the countryside, and 
all who were in trouble hastened at once for help 
and comfort to Duchess Max, whose womanly sym- 

[22] 



LIFE AT MUNICH 



pathies were by no means confined to her own family 
circle. 

Her handsome husband was even more popular, 
and his gay good nature and easy charm of manner 
made him adored by all. He was passionately fond 
of hunting, and spent whole days tramping about 
through the mountains alone with his gun. One 
evening after a long chase he arrived at a small 
tavern, tired and hungry, and his shabby old hunting 
clothes soiled and torn. No one recognizing him, 
he seated himself by the fire, took out his zither, and 
began to play. Some wood-cutters were so pleased 
with the stranger's music that they offered to pay 
him if he would play a few peasant dances for them. 
Max cheerfully agreed, and played and sang till 
the whole room joined in the sport and coppers 
rained into the player's hat. When the merry- 
making was over the musician ordered a meal so 
little in keeping with his appearance that the land- 
lady gazed at him in astonishment, convinced that 
he was a suspicious character who would probably 
attempt to leave without paying for his food, and 
determined to keep a watchful eye on him. As 
soon as he had eaten he began to play again, and the 
fun was at its height when a corporal entered and, 
recognizing the august guest, saluted him respect- 
fully. It always annoyed the Duke to have his 
incognito betrayed, and flinging a gold piece on the 
table he hastily departed, to the great relief of the 
embarrassed assemblage. 

[23] 



Chapter III 

Political Disturbances in Bavaria 



THIS idyllic life at Possenhofen was interrupted 
for a time, however, by the political agita- 
tions in Munich. All over Europe the 
spirit of revolution was stirring, a spirit that was 
soon to find expression in a general outbreak. No- 
where did the royal power seem more secure than in 
Bavaria. No monarch was more beloved than Lud- 
wig the First, no people so universally loyal to the 
crown as his good-natured, easy-going subjects. 
Nevertheless the popular upheaval was here, too, 
bearing fruit, and a demand for more share in the 
government, with a freer constitution, was becoming 
general, although the immediate cause of the out- 
break in Munich and the King's subsequent abdi- 
cation had seemingly little to do with politics. 

About this time a very beautiful and fascinating 
public dancer, called Lola Montez, made her appear- 
ance there and created a great sensation. Her 
origin was obscure and uncertain; but the best au- 
thorities seem to make her the daughter of an Irish 
officer and a beautiful Spanish woman of Moorish 
descent. She was born in Ireland in 1820 and 
at the age of seventeen married one Lieutenant 

[24] 



DISTURBANCES 



James, with whom she went to the West Indies. She 
soon left her husband, however, and returned to 
England, where she prepared herself to become a 
dancer. While hardly a regular beauty, Lola 
Montez seems to have possessed in the highest 
degree what the French call la beaute du diable. 
She had wonderful black hair, fiery eyes that could 
change in an instant to melting warmth, a perfect 
figure, with hands and feet so small and beautifully 
shaped that a duchess might have envied them. 

Her first appearance in London met with no great 
success — a marked contrast to the enthusiasm she 
afterward excited everywhere she went. After a 
season in Paris she obtained a permanent position 
at the royal theatre in Dresden, where she created a 
tremendous sensation and was shown great favor 
by the court. From there she went to Berlin, War- 
saw, and St. Petersburg, making a succession of 
conquests and also many enemies by her violent 
temper and the frequent use she made of her riding- 
whip or dagger. 

On the tenth of October, 1846, she appeared for 
the first time at the court theatre in Munich and 
immediately became the subject of violent discus- 
sion, some raving over her beauty, her adventures, 
and her triumphs, others denouncing her manners and 
behavior and creating prejudice against her by re- 
ports which even went so far as to call her a political 
spy. Instead of the traditional ballet skirts, Lola 
presented herself on this occasion in a Spanish cos- 

[25] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



tume of silk and lace, diamonds sparkling here and 
there upon it, her wonderful blue eyes flashing as 
she curtsied low before the King, who was seated 
in the royal box. She danced several Spanish 
dances and all sat spellbound as one charming pose 
followed another, fascinated by her supple grace 
of motion and the art with which she could suddenly 
change from glowing passion to the roguish smiles 
of an innocent young girl. As soon as she stopped 
dancing, however, the charm was broken and hisses 
were mingled with the applause. 

It was Ludwig's custom to receive all foreign 
artists in person, before they could appear at the 
court theatre. At his interview with Lola Montez 
the old man had been completely fascinated by her 
beauty and lively conversation, and was soon des- 
perately in love with the clever dancer, who knew 
so well how to amuse and entertain him. He was 
constantly seen in her company and at all her even- 
ing parties, an intimacy which was not long in 
arousing the displeasure of his family and subjects 
to the highest degree. Public feeling against the 
hated dancer soon began to display itself, and in the 
following Spring she retired with the King to Wiirz- 
burg, where she behaved with the same boldness 
and indiscretion as in the capital. 

One day she made a frightful scene because the 
guard would not allow her dog to enter the park 
where she wished to walk. The officer on duty was 
hastily summoned and tried to make her under- 

[26] 



DISTURBANCES 



stand that the soldier was in the right, whereupon 
she struck him across the face with her riding-whip. 
Out of respect for the King, no one ventured to arrest 
her, but the officers and citizens of Wiirzburg were 
so infuriated she was forced to leave the city secretly. 

The leader of the old Catholic party, Joseph 
Gorres, worked actively against her, and the press 
was not slow to fan the flame. Libels and lampoons 
were spread broadcast throughout the city, enraging 
the dancer, who in revenge forced the King to gratify 
all her wishes and drew him ever deeper into her 
toils. To annoy her enemies, and at the same time 
obtain entrance for herself into the highest circles, 
she persuaded the King to make her a countess. 
This he could not do, however, without the consent 
of his ministers, who positively refused to agree to 
such an act; furthermore they sent a memorandum 
to the King urging that Lola be expelled from the 
kingdom. Ludwig replied to this request by dis- 
missing not only the entire ministry, but many of 
their adherents, among whom were several professors 
in the university; and from this time on "the Bava- 
rian Pompadour," as Lola Montez has been called, 
became an important factor in politics. 

The university was now like the glowing crater of 
a volcano whence issued all the pent-up hatred and 
discontent, and on the ninth of February, 1848, came 
the first great eruption. Lola, whose southern blood 
craved excitement, attempted to show herself among 
the riotous throngs, but was forced to take refuge 

[27] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



in a church, thoroughly frightened for once. The 
King was furious when he heard of this, and as the 
students had been at the bottom of the demonstra- 
tion, he ordered the university closed and all non- 
resident students sent away from Munich. The 
next day the whole body of students marched through 
the Karlstrasse to the house of their distinguished 
chaplain, Professor Thiersch, singing songs of fare- 
well, and greeted with cheers from every window 
they passed. There was a close bond of sympathy 
between the university and the citizens, who held a 
meeting at once, protesting against the severity of 
the King's order and petitioning him to open the 
university again. Ludwig promised to take the 
matter into consideration, and after a conference 
with his ministers agreed to yield to the wishes of 
the citizens, furthermore proclaiming that the 
Countess Landsfeld, as Lola was now called, should 
be requested to leave Munich. "No one shall come 
between me and my people," he declared. This 
news was received with great rejoicing and the house 
in which the hated favorite lived was surrounded 
day and night by curious throngs, anxiously awaiting 
her departure. At last, on the morning of the 
eleventh of February, the doors were suddenly thrown 
open by a squad of police, and before the crowd 
outside realized what was happening, the coach con- 
taining the Countess had started off at a furious 
gallop on the road to Blutenburg. From there she 
fled to Lindau and thence to England, subsequently 
[28] 



DISTURBANCES 



making her way to the United States and later to 
Australia, where she died in 1861 at the age of forty, 
after a varied and adventurous career. 

The revolution of February, which had already 
taken place in Paris, was followed by similar up- 
risings throughout Europe, and added fuel to the fire 
in Bavaria. The citizens of Munich again rose in 
revolt, and the Government could no longer remain 
deaf to their just demands for a more liberal con- 
stitution. The King made some concessions which 
partially appeased the loyal Bavarians, and the dis- 
turbance seemed about to subside, when a report 
that Lola Montez had returned to Munich caused 
a fresh outbreak. Official notices were posted that 
evening on every street corner, affirming that the 
Countess Landsfeld had left Karlsruhe on the four- 
teenth of March for Frankfort, and had been for- 
bidden ever to set foot again on Bavarian soil; but 
the people laughed this to scorn. The placards 
were torn down and the insurgents continued their 
work of destruction. 

On the eighteenth of March, Munich found itself 
in a state of siege. Ten thousand troops were in 
arms to put an end, if possible, to the uprising. 
Many deputations waited on the King and on the 
States Assembly, which had convened in the mean- 
time, while the greater part of the people who had 
taken no part in the disturbance waited anxiously 
for developments. But King Ludwig was unable 
to crush the rebellion; neither was he able to rec- 

[29] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



oncile himself to a new system of government. 
Two days later Munich was startled by an unex- 
pected event. A proclamation was issued by the 
sovereign, announcing his abdication, after a reign 
of twenty-three years, in favor of his eldest son, to 
whom he left the task of carrying out the reforms 
demanded by the people. Dumbfounded at this 
unforeseen step, the Bavarians, loyal still to the 
house of Wittelsbach, were much affected, and many 
felt remorseful at having rebelled against their King, 
who, in spite of his faults, had been a good sovereign 
and done much for his country. After his abdica- 
tion, Ludwig spent the remainder of his life as a 
private citizen, partly in Bavaria, partly in Italy 
and the south of France, interesting himself still 
in art and plans for the further improvement of 
Munich. He soon regained all his old popularity, 
and felt no regrets for the rank and honors he had 
renounced. He died in February, 1868; but some 
years before that event, an equestrian statue of 
him was erected in Munich by the grateful people 
of that city. 



[30] 



Chapter IV 
The Wittelsbach Sisters 



tfiESE stirring events naturally had not been 



without their influence on Duke Max and 



"** his family, although the relations between 
them and the new sovereigns were no less cordial 
and intimate than they had been with the former 
ones. 

At the time when Duke Max bought Possenhofen 
the Crown Prince had acquired the castle of Hohen- 
schwangen in that same region and set a force of 
artists and architects at work to make it an ideal 
home for his bride. Prince Maximilian had spent 
the greater part of his youth in travel, and during 
a visit to the court of Berlin had first seen his future 
wife, then but four years of age. She was a daughter 
of Prince Karl of Prussia, and when he again met the 
Princess Marie as a lovely girl of sixteen, he fell in 
love with her on the spot. In the Autumn of 1841 
he made a formal offer for her hand, and the marriage 
took place on the fifth of October, 1842. 

Like the ducal family, the youthful pair spent 
most of the year at Hohenschwangen, the two princes 
hunting and riding together, while a close friendship 
developed between the Crown Princess and the 




[31] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Duke's young daughters, which was in no way in- 
terrupted by her becoming Queen of Bavaria. 

These daughters, the Wittelsbach sisters, were 
tenderly attached to one another and there was a 
strong family resemblance between them. Four had 
inherited their parents' good looks, and Helene, the 
oldest, while not so beautiful as the rest, was clever 
and clear-headed like her mother. Elizabeth and 
Maria both had a share of the family eccentricity; 
but of all the eight children, Maria was the only one 
endowed with Duke Max's high spirits and cheerful, 
sunny nature. She also possessed to a marked de- 
gree the distinguished bearing and grace of move- 
ment so characteristic of the whole race, while added 
to the gentle sweetness of Elizabeth's face, whom she 
much resembled, was an expression of strength and 
firmness unusual in one so young. 

The five sisters were brought up in the simplest 
manner, without regard to etiquette, and often walked 
about the streets of Munich without attendants of 
any kind. The Duke was much away from home and 
concerned himself little with his children's education, 
except as to music, sport, and out-of-door exercise; 
but Ludovica was constantly with her daughters, 
and devoted her whole life to fitting them for the posi- 
tions she was ambitious they should occupy. 

Elizabeth was famous for her beauty and Helene 
for her cleverness, while Maria was endowed with 
almost an equal share of both. She was warm- 
hearted, sweet-tempered, and incapable of falsehood, 

[32] 



THE SISTERS 



but very impulsive and unable to adapt herself 
to people; and the Duchess's methods of education 
did little to modify her independence of speech and 
action. Like Elizabeth, she was a passionate lover 
of nature and of animals; but she was bolder and 
less sensitive than her sister and early developed a 
love of danger and excitement. The happy days 
of childhood soon passed, however, and one by one 
the sisters left the home nest. In 1854 Elizabeth 
became Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary, 
to the bitter disappointment of Helene, who had 
been selected as bride of Francis Joseph. The 
Emperor preferred her younger sister, however, and 
in 1858 Helene consoled herself with the enormously 
wealthy Hereditary Prince of Thurn and Taxis, and 
went to Regensburg to live. Ludwig, the eldest 
son, had renounced his right of succession the pre- 
ceding year to marry an actress in Augsburg, making 
Karl Theodore, then in his twentieth year, the future 
head of the house. Although the court of Possen- 
hofen was seemingly of small importance, it enjoyed 
universal respect, and the Catholic royal houses of 
Europe were glad to ally themselves with it. 

In the Autumn of 1858 a messenger arrived from 
the King of Naples desiring to know whether the 
Duke and Duchess would consent to an alliance 
between their daughter Maria, then eighteen years 
old, and his eldest son. The two families were 
scarcely acquainted personally, and the young 
people had never seen each other, yet the Duke and 

[33] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Duchess returned an unconditional acceptance of 
the offer. To be sure, the Neapolitan Prince was 
considered a good match, being a Bourbon on his 
father's side and a member of the royal house of 
Sardinia on his mother's, and the heir, moreover, to 
an ancient and important kingdom in fair Italy. 

On the twenty-second of December, King Ferdi- 
nand's minister, Count Ludolff, arrived in Munich 
with a formal proposal of marriage, and after receiv- 
ing the young princess's consent, presented her on 
a velvet cushion a portrait of her future husband, a 
rather pleasant-looking young man in the uniform 
of a hussar. Two weeks later the marriage took 
place by proxy, as was the custom of the time. On 
the evening of the eighth of January, 1859, Maria 
Sophia Amalia, Duchess in Bavaria, was solemnly 
united in wedlock to Francis Maria Leopold, Duke 
of Calabria and Crown Prince of the Two Sicilies, 
in the court chapel at Munich. All the members of 
the royal house were present with the entire diplo- 
matic corps and many nobles and high officials of 
the State. King Maximilian and Queen Marie led 
the bride to the altar, where the bridegroom's brother, 
Prince Leopold (the present Regent of Bavaria), 
represented him in his absence. Following this cere- 
mony the King and Queen held a reception, during 
which crowds gathered outside the palace windows, 
eager for a glimpse of the little bride who had gone 
about among them all her life so gayly and familiarly. 

On the thirteenth of January, Maria left her 

[34J 



THE SISTERS 



parents' home with many tears and embraces for 
the dear ones she was leaving behind. She had 
never seen her husband nor any member of his 
family. Both the land and people that were to be 
hers in future were strange to her — an uncertain 
fate, indeed, to look forward to! But she was 
young and light-hearted, full of hope and courage, 
and well equipped by nature for the trials that 
awaited her. Her brother Ludwig, with several 
Bavarian ladies and gentlemen, accompanied her on 
the journey, besides a Neapolitan court lady, Nina 
Rizzo, sent by the Queen of Naples to instruct her 
in her new duties. At Vienna a stay of several days 
was made, owing to news of King Ferdinand's illness; 
but on the thirtieth of January the party resumed 
its way with the addition of the Empress Elizabeth, 
and on the following day reached Trieste, where they 
were met by the Duke of Serracaprioli, sent by the 
King to welcome the future Queen of Naples. This 
pompous personage discharged his errand with such 
ceremonious solemnity that the simple, unaffected 
Bavarian princess knew not whether to laugh or cry. 

On the first of February, at half-past one, the cere- 
mony of delivering the bride into the hands of the 
Neapolitan envoy took place in the Governor's 
palace. Across the centre of the great salon a silken 
cord had been stretched, representing the boundary 
line between Bavaria and Naples. Beside this were 
placed a table, covered with red velvet, and two 
gilded arm-chairs. The room had folding doors at 

[35] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



either end, one of which was decorated with the 
colors of Naples and guarded by Neapolitan marines, 
while at the other, similarly adorned with Bavarian 
arms and banners, stood a band of the royal Bavarian 
retainers. The Neapolitan envoy, with two ladies of 
high rank who had come to act as escort to the Prin- 
cess, were stationed on their side of the boundary 
line with the Admiral and officers of the ship that 
was to carry Maria Sophia and her suite to Naples, 
while the Duchess and her Bavarian escort entered 
through the other door and took their places. The 
two envoys then advanced from their respective 
positions to the silken cord, where they exchanged 
documents concerning the marriage. The Count 
von Rechburg addressed a few words of farewell 
to the youthful bride, who rose and extended her 
hand for her German attendants to kiss, after which 
the Count led her to the middle of the room and gave 
her into the hands of the Duke of Serracapriola, who 
humbly begged her to seat herself in the Neapolitan 
arm-chair while he delivered a short address of 
congratulation and welcome. This almost mediaeval 
ceremony concluded, Maria left the salon through 
the door draped in Neapolitan colors and went 
directly on board the Fulminante, in the cabin of 
which the Empress Elizabeth and Prince Ludwig 
took an affecting farewell of their young sister. The 
greater part of her suite embarked on another vessel, 
the Tancredo, and an hour later both ships were 
steaming out of the harbor of Trieste. 

[36] 



Chapter V 
"The Neapolitan Royal Family 



KING FERDINAND THE SECOND, the 
reigning Prince of Naples at this time, came 
of bad stock. The reign of his grandfather, 
Ferdinand the First of Naples and Fourth of the 
Two Sicilies, of whom King Frederick of Prussia 
once aptly remarked that he was more fit for a 
prison cell than a throne, had been one long scandal, 
and his son, Francis the First, followed faithfully in 
his father's footsteps during his short reign (1825- 
1830). Ferdinand the Second had naturally a good 
mind, and at the time of his accession to the throne 
had roused great hopes by the military and financial 
reforms he introduced and by his wise plans for 
developing the resources of his impoverished king- 
dom. This did not last long, however, for he soon 
began to display the same despotic tendencies that 
had made his father and grandfather so abhorred by 
the people, and the older he grew the more marked 
these became. 

The general movement toward liberty that shook 
Europe in the nineteenth century had not been 
without its effect, both in Naples and Sicily, as may 

[37] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



easily be supposed, considering the harsh rule which 
the fiery southerners had been forced to endure so 
long. Ferdinand had succeeded in crushing one 
violent outbreak in 1848; but beneath the ashes the 
fire still smouldered, and the inward ferment was 
constantly increased by the extreme measures to 
which "Bomba," 1 as the King was popularly called, 
resorted, to maintain and strengthen his position. 
He ruled with a despotism and intolerance that 
suggested the worst days of the Inquisition. The 
prisons were full of political " criminals," whose only 
crime was the holding of liberal views, or the suspi- 
cion of doing so, and these victims were treated with 
such revolting cruelty as to rouse the horror of the 
civilized wx>rld. In spite of these things, however, 
Bomba was not without some good qualities. In 
private life he was both just and temperate, simple 
in his habits, a good husband and father. He was 
twice married. His first wife, to whom he was united 
two years after his accession to the throne, was the 
Princess Maria Christina of Sardinia — Italy's 
"Queen Dagmar" — an angel of goodness and piety. 
The people called her Saint Christina even during 
her lifetime, and she was afterward canonized by 
the Church of Rome. Such a woman could not but 
exert a beneficial influence over her royal husband; 
but it was unfortunately of short duration, for she 

x The nickname of King Bomba was given to Ferdinand after the 
bombardment of Messina in Sicily, but also referred to the huge, un- 
wieldy figure that he acquired, especially in the later years of his life. 

[38] 



THE ROYAL FAMILY 



died in 1836, four years after her marriage, leaving 
a son two weeks old, the Crown Prince Francis 
Maria Leopold. 

Ferdinand had no intention of remaining long a 
widower. He first wished to marry a daughter of 
King Louis Philippe of France, but Austria per- 
suaded England to join in defeating this plan, which 
would have resulted in too powerful a union of the 
reigning Bourbon families. He then applied for 
the hand of an Austrian princess, and in 1837 was 
married to Maria Theresa, daughter of the Arch- 
duke Karl, who presented him with five sons and 
four daughters. In spite of her proud name and 
lofty lineage, the new Queen was a very ordinary 
person, though not without some homely virtues. 
Her horizon was bounded by her family and her 
household, in the duties of which she took an active 
part, even mending her children's clothes with her 
own hands, it is said; and she seems to have been 
utterly lacking in the realization that a queen should 
have other and wider duties than those of a house- 
keeper. In simplicity of tastes she much resembled 
her husband, who was most frugal in his mode of 
living; but she sometimes went so far that even he 
was annoyed, and one day at dinner he remonstrated 
with her, saying: "Come, come, Ther! [a nickname 
he had for her] you will soon be making us wait 
on ourselves at table!" 

The simplest fare was served in the royal 
household. Macaroni was one of the principal 

[39] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



articles of diet, and a favorite dish of the King's 
was raw onions, which he peeled with his fingers, 
declaring that contact with a knife gave them 
an unpleasant flavor. The Queen, however, never 
liked Neapolitan cooking and always had some sub- 
stantial German dishes prepared for herself. She 
could not speak Italian correctly, but learned only 
the Neapolitan dialect, which she pronounced in a 
most dreadful way, with her broad German accent. 
In short, Ferdinand's second wife was as unpopular 
as his first had been popular. She made no effort 
to win the love of the people and her homely, plebeian 
ways were little to the taste of the gay Neapolitans, 
who adored glitter and display of any sort. The 
King's favorite recreation was driving. He went 
out every afternoon, taking some of his family and 
usually holding the reins himself. The royal equi- 
page was always accompanied by a mounted escort, 
while horsemen were stationed along the route the 
King was to take, to detain all chance travellers 
until he had passed by, not as a mark of respect, but 
as a measure of precaution. 

Exemplary as this royal pair may have been from 
the standpoint of a private citizen, as far as the 
education of their children was concerned they were 
certainly not successful. The teachers they chose 
were almost exclusively bigoted Jesuits. Ferdi- 
nand wished his sons to be taught Latin, French, 
civil and administrative law, but they received no 
military training of any kind. Even sports and 

[40] 



THE ROYAL FAMILY 



physical exercises were excluded from their plan of 
education, nor were they permitted to travel or 
acquire any knowledge of foreign lands or peoples. 
Ferdinand's own education had been most imper- 
fect. He read little or nothing himself and wrote 
his orders, even those pertaining to important affairs 
of state, on any scrap of paper that came to hand, 
sometimes even in the Neapolitan dialect. He re- 
garded all writers and literary men with contempt 
as an inferior and objectionable race of beings — 
a curious mixture of pride and prejudice which he 
also displayed toward people of other nations. He 
called the English, fishmongers, the French, barbers, 
the Russians, tallow-eaters, etc. Austrians were the 
only foreigners of whom he ever spoke with any 
respect, and that was on his wife's account. In his 
younger days he had possessed a fair share of the 
Neapolitan humor, but it soon degenerated into 
bitterness and sarcasm. 

The following anecdote of him is characteristic. 
Some public festival was being held in the square 
in front of the palace and the King was standing on 
a balcony with the Crown Prince, then still a child. 
Gazing down on the crowds below and thinking 
perhaps of the high position to which he would 
one day be called, the boy turned suddenly to his 
father with the question: 

"What could a King do with all these people?" 

"He could kill them all!" replied Ferdinand, then 
added solemnly, bowing low and crossing himself, 

[41] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



"He could, my son, but he would not, out of respect 
for the holy religion." 

Ferdinand the Second's system of police and 
priestly rule did not fail to bear fruit in the shape 
of numerous uprisings and attempted assassinations 
that terrorized the last years of his reign. He knew 
himself to be an object of universal hatred and 
that hundreds were plotting against his life, and 
grew more nervous and uneasy every day. Added 
to these mental anxieties he had acute physical 
sufferings. The unfortunate prince could find no 
rest, day or night. At the age of forty-five his hair 
had turned completely white and he looked like an 
old man. 

His natural tendency toward bigotry increased 
with illness and worry and he became as supersti- 
tious as the most orthodox prince of the Middle 
Ages. Before mounting a horse he always crossed 
himself, and he never met a priest or monk on one of 
his drives without stopping the carriage while he 
alighted and knelt upon the ground until the holy 
man had passed. He went frequently to confession 
and had daily masses read for himself in all the 
churches. Every night be prayed, rosary in hand, 
with his wife and children, and before retiring would 
kiss each of the holy images with which the walls 
of his bedchamber were adorned. But even these 
pious observances failed to bring relief. Conscience 
tortured him, and he sought sleep in vain. 

[42] 



THE ROYAL FAMILY 



The betrothal of his eldest son and heir to the 
Bavarian Princess brought a gleam of light into the 
darkness. The house of Wittelsbach, besides its 
high rank and antiquity, was strongly orthodox in 
its Catholicism, a most important item in Ferdi- 
nand's eyes; and the alliance was a strong one 
politically, for by it his son would become the 
brother-in-law of the Emperor of Austria, and 
closely connected also with several others of the 
reigning houses of Europe. In spite of his state of 
health, the King had determined to be present at 
the second and real wedding of Francis and Maria, 
and succeeded, indeed, in reaching Bari, where the 
ceremony was to take place; but the fatigue and 
hardships of a Winter journey over the Apennines 
were too much for his strength, and he arrived at 
Bari so ill and exhausted that there was no possi- 
bility of his being able to assist in the festivities. 

The King ill unto death, the country on the verge 
of revolution, the royal house and kingdom threat- 
ened by enemies at home and abroad — a sorry state 
of affairs to greet the fair young Bavarian Princess, 
entering for the first time the land of which she was 
soon to become the sovereign! 



[43] 



Chapter VI 
Maria Sophia s Arrival 



IT was on a beautiful Spring morning, the third of 
February, 1859, that the Crown Princess ap- 
proached her new home. All the roads leading 
to Bari were filled with curious sightseers, eager for 
a glimpse of the bride. All tongues were busy with 
praises of her beauty and goodness. Her name was 
on every lip; but instead of being called the Princess 
of Bavaria or Duchess of Calabria, she was and still 
is familiarly spoken of in Italy as Maria Sophia, to 
distinguish her from many of her predecessors on 
the throne who had borne the name of Maria. The 
whole royal family had journeyed to Bari to wel- 
come her and were lodged on the first floor of the 
Intendant's palace, where apartments had also been 
prepared for the Duchess of Calabria and her suite; 
but in spite of the joyous air of expectancy that per- 
vaded the town, a dark cloud hung over the palace 
itself, owing to the condition of the King, who was 
confined to his bed and suffering greatly. He had 
looked forward with the deepest pleasure and inter- 
est to his son's marriage, and it was a bitter disap- 
pointment to him not to be present at the wedding 
ceremonies. 

[44] 



MARIA'S ARRIVAL 



About ten o'clock in the morning, the thunder of 
cannon proclaimed the approach of the Fulminante 
and the Tancredo. The troops lined up, the mayor 
of Bari and other dignitaries took their places in a 
pavilion which had been erected in the middle of 
the landing stage for the bride's reception, while 
ten state equipages, escorted by a mounted guard, 
issued from the palace and drove down to the 
pavilion, where the Queen, with her stepson, the 
Duke of Calabria, and her little daughters, alighted 
and boarded a steam launch to go out to meet the 
Duchess. 

On the Fulminante, meanwhile, all was stir and 
excitement. The bride, as she stood on deck dressed 
in a handsome travelling costume, looked more than 
ever like her sister Elizabeth. She had the same 
wonderful dark blue eyes and rich brown hair; and 
although not so tall as the Empress, her figure was 
quite as beautifully formed. On this occasion her 
usual expression of childish innocence and gayety 
had given place to one of serious expectancy, and 
she was very pale, a result partly owing to fatigue, 
partly to emotions natural to the situation. Dur- 
ing the journey she had plied Nina Rizzo and her 
new chamberlain with questions about her future 
husband; how he looked, how he behaved toward 
his parents, his brothers, and his subjects; and she 
had never tired of hearing tales of his childhood. 
To her naive inquiry as to whether Francis was 
really as disagreeable as he was said to be in Bavaria, 

[45] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



both had done their best to reassure the Princess by 
expatiating on his good qualities. 

It had stormed all night, but the sea now lay calm 
and smiling as if in welcome, and it seemed to Maria 
that she had never seen such a wonderful blue before. 
As they drew near the beautiful harbor with the 
town of Bari beyond, bathed in Italian sunshine, 
she was so absorbed in the enchanting scene that at 
first she did not notice the approaching launch. 
Suddenly she caught sight of Francis standing up 
in the craft in his gay hussar uniform, and her face 
lit up with a joyous smile. She recognized him at 
once from his portrait and found him more agreeable- 
looking than she had expected. Advancing to the 
side of the vessel to meet him as he came aboard, she 
held out her hand with charming impulsiveness and 
said, "Bonjour, Francois!" 

"Bonjour, Marie!" replied the Prince, shyly taking 
both her hands in his and kissing her on the fore- 
head. The Queen then embraced the young girl and 
presented her to the princesses, Maria inquiring 
solicitously for the King and expressing her regret 
at his absence. She then asked with great interest 
about the coast, the town they were approaching, 
the vessels in the harbor, and all the new sights and 
scenes about her. The young bridegroom, mean- 
while, stood silent and embarrassed beside his step- 
mother, so overcome with the emotion of meeting 
his bride and finding her even more fascinating than 
he had dared to imagine, that he was more shy 

[46] 



MARIA'S ARRIVAL 



and awkward than usual and could only stammer a 
few disjointed words in answer to her questions. 

At the landing they were met by the assembled 
officials and escorted to the pavilion, where the royal 
party entered their coaches and drove back to the 
palace. Maria's beauty and girlish charm won 
instant favor. A storm of cheers greeted her 
entrance into the new land; and even after she had 
disappeared within the palace, the enthusiastic 
Italians continued to shout till she was obliged to 
come out and show herself once more on a balcony. 
The Crown Princess had scarcely time, however, to 
acknowledge the people's homage, before she was 
summoned to the King's bedside. She found him 
sitting up to greet her, his face deeply lined with 
suffering. With all a father's tenderness, Ferdinand 
embraced his new daughter-in-law, shedding tears 
at this sorrowful meeting, so different from what he 
had hoped for, while Maria also wept and returned 
the embrace warmly. It was the first time in this 
foreign land that she had been welcomed with any- 
thing like the affection to which she had been accus- 
tomed at home, and she felt drawn at once to her 
dying father-in-law, who had taken her into his heart 
at their very first meeting, realizing with pity how 
thickly strewn with thorns must be the path in life 
of this fair young creature who seemed made only 
for joy and happiness. Maria had little time to 
dwell on this scene, however, for the Queen led her 
away almost immediately to her chamber, where 

[47] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Nina Rizzo exchanged her travelling suit for the 
white satin bridal robe, and placed on her luxuriant 
hair — a characteristic of all the Wittelsbach sisters 
— a wreath of orange blossoms with a magnificent 
lace veil which she had brought with her from home. 
An altar had been erected in the banqueting hall, 
the walls of which were lined with pictures of the 
Madonna. Before the altar a throne with arm-chairs 
was placed for the princes and princesses. The 
bishops and distinguished guests had taken their 
places and the ceremony was about to begin, when an 
incident occurred that made it hard for those present 
to preserve their gravity. The Queen's second son, 
Alphonso, Count of Caserta, who though eighteen 
years old was as wild and ungovernable as a school- 
boy, had succeeded in fastening a long paper train 
to the uniform of one of the highest court officials, 
whose solemn air of unconsciousness only added to 
the humor of the situation. One of the court gentle- 
men, however, quietly managed to remove the ridic- 
ulous appendage, the victim remaining in blissful 
ignorance of the trick that had been played upon 
him. 

The young couple entered and took their places 
before the altar, where the bishop concluded the 
ceremony with a solemn address in Italian, invoking 
the blessing of God upon them. At the close of the 
Te Deum an orchestra struck up the National Hymn 
and a salvo of artillery announced to the waiting 
crowds without that the marriage was completed, 

[48] 



MARIA'S ARRIVAL 



while the bridal pair went at once to the King's 
chamber to receive his paternal blessing. That 
evening the whole town was brilliantly illuminated, 
and the square before the palace was filled with 
cheering throngs far into the night; but in spite of 
these demonstrations there was much secret uneasi- 
ness as to the King's condition. The excitement of 
the wedding had had a bad effect on Ferdinand^ 
though he did all in his power to conceal his suffer- 
ings, and the royal family seemed quite unaware of 
the alarming nature of his illness. 

When the Count of Caserta's mischievous prank 
reached the ears of the King, he sent for that youth 
and administered a sharp rebuke, declaring such a 
performance could only have been expected of a 
street urchin. Three days' confinement to his room 
was to be his punishment, but at the Queen's inter- 
cession the sentence was somewhat lightened. 



[49] 



Chapter VII 
A Strange Honeymoon 



FIE early months of the married life of Francis 



and Maria Sophia were similar in many 



ways to those of Marie Antoinette and Louis 
the Sixteenth of France. Francis, like Louis, was 
awkward, timid, and doubtful of himself. Although 
brought up in the land of art and beauty, he had 
no taste for such things. Like the King of France, 
he was honest, just, and deeply religious, but weak 
and irresolute, and conspicuously lacking in those 
qualities naturally looked for in princes of royal 
lineage. 

Equally marked were the points of resemblance 
between Marie Antoinette and Maria Sophia. Both 
were gay, childish, and impulsive, with remarkable 
personal courage and a frankness that was as attrac- 
tive as it was dangerous; both were too beautiful 
not to excite envy, and too full of high spirits not to 
cause offence. The Wittelsbach Princess, however, 
had qualities the Dauphiness lacked — perfect hon- 
esty and the robust health and splendid vitality 
brought from her Bavarian Alps. She was a finished 
horsewoman, a good shot, a tireless walker, and 
devoted to out-of-door recreations of all sorts. Her 




[So] 



STRANGE HONEYMOON 



husband, on the other hand, was grave, silent, and 
melancholy. Sports had no attraction for him. He 
never hunted, and in spite of his hussar uniform 
the Neapolitans declare that he was never known 
to mount a horse. One point, however, they shared 
in common — indifference to luxury and love of 
simplicity. 

At the time of her marriage the Crown Princess 
could scarcely speak a word of Italian. Francis's 
knowledge of French was very limited, and of Ger- 
man he was entirely ignorant, so that unrestrained 
communication between the young couple was diffi- 
cult at first. The education of the Duke of Cala- 
bria had done little to prepare him for the lofty 
position that awaited him. His stepmother, who 
completely spoiled her own children, neglected him 
shamefully in some ways and was unnecessarily 
harsh in others. Overshadowed by his cleverer 
stepbrothers, who despised him, and conscious of 
his own mental and physical deficiencies, the poor 
boy had become morbidly shy and reserved. Yet 
he had many good qualities. He never forgot the 
smallest service shown him, and was invariably kind 
and courteous even to the humblest. Many tales 
are told of his sympathy with the poor and suffering, 
and even as a child he would part with his dearest 
treasure to help any one in distress. But his appear- 
ance was so unprepossessing as to be almost un- 
pleasant; and the consciousness of this made him 
appear at his worst with his wife, whose beauty and 

[Si] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



vivacity so enthralled him that he became dumb at 
her approach and would often hide behind the door 
when she entered the room, to avoid speaking to her. 

The Neapolitan court was a contrast in more ways 
than one to the home Maria Sophia had left, and for 
which she yearned so longingly. Barely eighteen 
years old, overflowing with health and spirits, she 
found herself surrounded by an atmosphere of false 
humility, deceit, and religious hypocrisy; and al- 
though her natural light-heartedness helped her 
through many troubles and disappointments in the 
new life, yet she could never forget that she was a 
stranger in a strange land, alone and almost friend- 
less. Fond as her father-in-law was of her, he was 
too ill to be able to do anything toward making her 
life pleasant, and the little princesses, while out- 
wardly civil, were stiff and unsympathetic. With 
her brothers-in-law she was on a somewhat better 
footing, for they were charmed with the zest with 
which she entered into their sports; but the Queen 
from the very first had treated her with the most 
marked unfriendliness, correcting her constantly, 
as if she had been a schoolgirl, and regarding her 
most innocent diversions with suspicion. She even 
refused to allow her to ride, as she had been used to 
do at home; and the young Duchess sorely missed 
her favorite occupation. 

Maria Theresa was a woman of strong will and 
had been accustomed to obedience from her family 
as well as her subjects. She had selected her most 

[52] 



STRANGE HONEYMOON 



trusted lady-in-waiting to attend her stepson's 
wife, hoping that Nina Rizzo, who was devoted to 
her mistress, would teach the Crown Princess to 
bow to her will as every one else did. But in this 
she was mistaken, for though Maria Sophia liked 
Nina, she remained deaf to all her exhortations on 
the subject, firmly determined to preserve her inde- 
pendence at all costs. 

Meanwhile the King grew steadily worse, and the 
cloud over the palace darkened. The young princes 
tried to relieve the gloom and pass away the time by 
walks about the town, running races in the palace 
courtyard, and playing tricks on the gentlemen of 
the court, pastimes in which they were frequently 
joined by Maria Sophia. One day she went down 
to the shore and, with the help of an old boatman, 
succeeded in catching a whole basketful of fish which 
she bore home in triumph and had cooked for the 
royal table. Another time she promised her brothers- 
in-law to make them some Bavarian pancakes. A 
portable grate was secured and placed over a char- 
coal fire, and the Princess set to work. But no frying- 
pan or ladle was to be had. At this moment the 
mayor of Bari made his appearance, in gold-laced 
coat and knee breeches, to pay his respects at court. 
Maria Sophia was no longer in a quandary. In her 
own lively way she begged the official to go down 
into the market-place and get her the needed utensils. 
The obliging mayor hastened to do her bidding, and 
soon returned with the desired articles; but the 

[S3] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



result of the Princess's culinary labors was most 
unsatisfactory after all, for the pancakes proved 
uneatable. Large holes were burned in the table- 
cloth and napkins, and amid shouts of laughter 
Maria Sophia abandoned any further attempts to 
shine as a cook in Italy. The mayor carried the 
frying-pan and ladle home with him as souvenirs 
of the merry scene, and they are still preserved as 
relics in his family. 

Amid the general sadness that prevailed, however, 
these lively outbreaks became less and less fre- 
quent, and the young Duchess hailed with joy the 
news that the court was to move to Caserta. Nina 
Rizzo had often told her of the beauties of that 
place, and she eagerly looked forward to their de- 
parture as an hour of deliverance. The journey was 
long deferred, however, as the King's sufferings were 
so acute he would not allow himself to be moved. 
A monk at length succeeded in persuading the sick 
man to consent, and he was carried on a mattress 
to a steam frigate which was to convey him from 
Bari to Portici in order to avoid any stop at Naples. 
From Portici to Caserta the five hours' journey caused 
the unfortunate sovereign such torture that the 
Archbishop of Naples ordered continuous prayers 
to be offered for him in all the churches. Once 
amid these new surroundings — the lofty halls and 
salons of the palace, the enchanting park and gar- 
dens — Maria Sophia's spirits rose, and she felt almost 
happy again. But it was not for long. Between the 

[S4l 



STRANGE HONEYMOON 



Queen's animosity and her husband's weakness, she 
soon relapsed into her old loneliness and helpless- 
ness. Almost her only diversion now was her family 
of parrots. She had ten, and her laughter over the 
ludicrous results of their attempts to speak German 
was the sole evidence that her natural gayety was 
not entirely suppressed and crushed. 

Meanwhile the Queen's supposed treasonable de- 
signs were freely discussed throughout the kingdom. 
It was said that on the King's death she intended 
to seize the double crown for her own son, and that 
many of the police officials were ready to support 
her plans; also that the Crown Prince was forcibly 
excluded from his father's sick-room. There was 
no truth in this latter report, however; for although 
Francis had indeed been carefully kept from taking 
any part in affairs of state hitherto, now at the 
eleventh hour, Ferdinand insisted upon having his 
son with him constantly, and giving him instruc- 
tions for future guidance; these the Crown Prince 
copied on a sheet of paper and used frequently to 
consult after he became King. On the tenth of 
April Ferdinand made his last will and testament, 
leaving equal portions of his property to each of his 
children, with a large share to his wife, and a twelfth 
part to be divided among religious institutions. 

In spite of the statements already published in 
regard to the amount and distribution of his estate, 
Ferdinand was popularly believed to own enormous 
sums in private, mainly derived from confiscation 

[551 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



of the property of political criminals. His fortune 
was said to amount to three hundred million ducats. 
As a matter of fact, however, the King's actual 
property was scarcely more than seven million 
ducats, although he owned a great number of jewels 
and other valuables. 

On the twelfth of April Ferdinand received the 
last sacrament; but he lived on for more than a 
month. The superstitious Neapolitans expected his 
death to occur on the fifteenth of May, the anniver- 
sary of the riots there in 1848, of which the King had 
taken advantage for his shameful persecution of 
his subjects; but it was not till the twenty-second of 
May that his sufferings were finally ended. A fright- 
ful storm broke out during the hour of his death and 
this was looked upon by many as a bad omen for 
the new reign. 



[56] 



Chapter VIII 
Accession of Francis II and Maria Sophia 



SIDE from the comparatively small circle at 



Bari, few of her subjects had ever seen the 



new Queen, while Francis himself was 
almost as little known to the people. A few days 
after their accession, the youthful sovereigns held a 
levee at the royal palace in Naples. The King in 
his hussar uniform, and the Queen in her crown and 
ermine robes, stood under a canopy in the centre of 
the great hall, while all the high officials, nobles, and 
dignitaries of the court and kingdom stepped for- 
ward to kiss the hands of Their Majesties. As the 
gorgeously attired procession wound its way past 
the throne, the sudden appearance of a band of poets 
striding along in their long black cloaks and broad- 
brimmed hats formed such a startling contrast to the 
rest of the glittering throng that Maria Sophia burst 
into an irrepressible peal of laughter which soon 
spread to all about her. 

Freed at last from the dreadful oppression that 
had weighed her down as Crown Princess, she quickly 
recovered her exuberance of spirits, which found 
expression in various ways. The relations between 
her and her husband also became much more free 




[57] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



and natural after their accession to the throne. 
Francis had begun, soon after the wedding, to be in 
love with his wife, although he did not show it. The 
long system of repression to which he had become 
accustomed had inflicted permanent injuries on his 
sensitive nature; but Maria Sophia's personal charm 
was so great and her gayety so spontaneous that it 
was impossible for him to escape her fascination. 
Under his awkward manner, however, she did not 
perceive his dawning love for her, while he felt 
strange in the world of lovers and was unable to 
express his feelings, except by the eagerness with 
which he fulfilled her slightest wish. Nor did Maria 
Sophia hesitate to use her power. Once her own 
mistress, she quickly cast off the yoke laid upon her 
by the Queen at Bari and Caserta, and gave unmis- 
takable proof that she, too, had a strong will. 

At table she would beg permission to have her 
favorite dog, Lyonne, in the room. The King 
always consented; and the huge Newfoundland with 
her four pups would come tearing in and enjoy them- 
selves during the rest of the meal, leaping madly 
about the table, and sometimes even upon it, to 
the indignation of the court and their mistress's in- 
tense delight. Photography had recently come into 
fashion, and she had herself taken in every possible 
position and costume, greatly to the disgust of her 
mother-in-law, who objected strongly to her con- 
tinual changes of costume and her frequent riding 
excursions. But the time was past when Maria 

[58] 



RANCIS SECOND 

King of Naples 



ACCESSION OF FRANCIS II 



Sophia allowed herself to be dictated to. Like a 
young Amazon she dashed about the streets of 
Naples, exciting universal admiration and amaze- 
ment at her daring horsemanship. 

As Crown Prince, Francis the Second had not been 
unpopular with the people. His mother had been 
almost worshipped; and the Neapolitans pitied the 
sickly boy whose life, even, so it was said, had been 
attempted by his stepmother. But he was utterly 
lacking in the qualities necessary for a sovereign. 
It needed a clear head and a firm hand to guide the 
ship of state safely through those stormy seas. His 
judgment was sound enough ; but he was good-natured 
to the point of weakness, and superstitious to an 
almost fanatical degree. He never let a day pass 
without hearing mass, and went regularly to con- 
fession. One of his favorite occupations was to hold 
long religious conversations with Father Borelli and 
other priests who happened to be at court. He 
talked much of his dead mother, before whose por- 
trait he would kneel for hours in prayer, and he 
would frequently clasp his head in his hands as if in 
distress, crying, "Ah, how heavy this crown is!" 

One day, soon after his accession, while holding a 
conference with his minister of finance, Raymondo del 
Liguoro, the table at which they sat moved slightly, 
and the minister turned to see what had caused it. 

"It was I who shook the table," said the King. 
"I had a sudden fit of trembling. That is a bad 
sign. It means that I shall die soon." 

[59] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Liguoro adjured His Majesty to banish such 
thoughts, as his life was not his own, but belonged 
to the people over whom he ruled. "I do not value 
either my life or my kingdom very highly," replied 
Francis. "I always think of what is written, 'The 
Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.'" 

The dowager Queen was a truly proverbial step- 
mother. She had never been able to reconcile herself 
to having her stepson inherit the united kingdoms 
while her own sons had nothing; even during her 
husband's lifetime she had attempted to secure the 
succession of her eldest boy to the throne of Sicily. 
But King Ferdinand would not listen to this. On 
his death-bed he had extracted a solemn oath from 
each member of his family to support the rightful 
heir, and after his death the widowed Queen had 
flung herself at her stepson's feet and promised him 
her allegiance. That she broke this vow has never 
been historically verified, the only proofs having 
been generously destroyed by King Francis himself. 
It happened in this way. Minister Filangieri had 
long suspected Maria Theresa of being at the head 
of a conspiracy to depose the young sovereign and 
place her son, the Count of Trani, on the throne, and 
at last succeeded in obtaining certain proof of this. 
He carried the documents at once to the King; but 
Francis refused to look at them. Without a glance 
he flung them into the fire, saying, "She was my 
father's wife!" 

[60] 



ACCESSION OF FRANCIS II 



Maria Theresa afterward indignantly denied this, 
declaring the whole affair a plot to sow discord be- 
tween her and the King; but, be that as it may, there 
is no doubt that she was greatly to blame for Francis's 
lack of education and training in early youth and 
childhood. She had brought him up as if he had 
been a girl, destined to live in retirement, rather 
than as a man who had a lofty mission to fulfil, em- 
phasizing his natural awkwardness and timidity, and 
choosing tutors totally unfitted to prepare his mind 
for the demands of the times and his future position. 
His whole nature had been cowed and stunted in 
order that he might be kept subservient to her will. 

She had also attempted these tactics with Maria 
Sophia, but with less success. The Bavarian Prin- 
cess was far too self-reliant to submit to any such 
yoke. She was quite as strong-willed as her mother- 
in-law, besides being far wiser and cleverer. She 
also had her own political views, which were directly 
opposed to those of the dowager Queen. The latter 
was full of the old ideas of absolutism and had no 
sympathy with the new spirit of liberty, while Maria 
Sophia openly proclaimed her liberal opinions and 
urged the King to grant the country more freedom. 

History shows that many women have filled the 
highest and most important positions with credit 
and honor. England has her Elizabeth, Russia her 
Catherine, Austria and Hungary their Maria Theresa, 
Scandinavia its Margareta. Maria Sophia of Naples 
is yet another example of feminine ability and judg- 

[61] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



ment in political affairs. King Francis had no abler 
counsellor than his own wife, and had he followed her 
advice the issue of events might have been very dif- 
ferent. But he was blinded by prejudice, by family 
tradition, by his education, and by court intrigues. 
As a child he had witnessed the bloody riots in Naples 
and been taught to regard such outbreaks as criminal 
attacks on a divinely instituted form of government. 
Even before his illness, Ferdinand had taken pains 
to instil his own principles into his son, and almost 
with his last breath had urged him never to allow 
himself to be carried away by the stream of liberalism 
that threatened to overflow Italy. Much as Francis 
loved and admired his young wife, therefore, he 
found it impossible to break away from the despotic 
ideas in which he had been steeped from his infancy, 
and not until it was too late did he realize the wisdom 
of her advice. 



[62] 



Chapter IX 
Garibaldi 



MEANWHILE events were occurring in 
northern Italy that were to exert a far- 
reaching influence on the Kingdom of 
Naples. The throne of Sardinia was occupied by a 
bold and able sovereign, Victor Emanuel of Savoy, 
who was fortunate enough to have as his counsellor 
Cavour, one of the foremost statesmen of the nine- 
teenth century. 

Together with Napoleon the Third, Victor Eman- 
uel had inflicted a series of defeats on the Austrians 
early in 1859, breaking their rule in Lombardy, and 
thereby giving a tremendous impetus to the spirit 
of Italian unity. It was as if the whole country 
had suddenly awakened to a realization of the fact 
that the various States into which Italy had been 
divided for centuries really belonged together; 
and the idea of uniting them seized the popular 
mind with irresistible force. It is interesting to 
note that the national movement which occurred 
some ten years later in Germany had many points 
of resemblance to this. Both nations had only of 
late aspired to greater political importance: both 
were good fighters and governed by princes who knew 

[63] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



how to wield the sword themselves, as well as to 
choose their generals and statesmen. In both cases 
the right men appeared at the right moment — Von 
Moltke and Bismarck in Germany, Garibaldi and 
Cavour in Italy. Cavour had several times at- 
tempted to bring about an alliance between Sardinia 
and Naples during the reign of Ferdinand; but his 
offers had been treated with scorn by that short- 
sighted monarch. After his death and the brilliant 
victory over the Austrians at Magenta, overtures 
to this end were again made by Sardinia to the new 
King of Naples. 

On the twenty-fourth of June, 1859, Victor Eman- 
uel sent Salmour, one of his ablest and most trusted 
diplomats, to Naples. He reminded Francis of the 
ties of blood that bound him to the house of Savoy, 
and pointed out the fact that an alliance between 
the two kingdoms would be security for the inde- 
pendence of Italy. The plan had been warmly 
supported by the press of northern Italy and its 
popularity was testified to by the enthusiasm with 
which Salmour's arrival was hailed in Naples. But, 
on the other hand, it met with powerful opposition 
at court, especially on the part of the dowager Queen, 
who, as an Austrian archduchess, was bitter against 
Sardinia for the defeats her native land had suffered 
at its hands, and used all her influence to prejudice 
the weak young King against the plan. As a result, 
Salmour was obliged to return without accomplish- 
ing his object and the diplomatic transactions were 

[64] 



GARIBALDI 



never made public. But though Francis might reject 
the offer of such an alliance, he could not prevent 
the idea of a union between northern and southern 
Italy meeting with popular favor.; and it spread 
with such lightning rapidity throughout the two 
kingdoms that soon only a spark was needed to 
kindle public enthusiasm into a blaze. In less than 
a year from the time that Francis refused Victor 
Emanuel's proposal, that spark appeared in the form 
of Garibaldi. 

On the sixth of May, i860, Garibaldi embarked 
at Genoa with a thousand volunteers, and on the 
eleventh landed at Marsala, on the west coast of 
Sicily. Brave and hardy as his followers were, it 
was a hazardous undertaking to attempt, with such 
a force, to attack an army of over one hundred 
thousand regular troops; but Garibaldi knew his 
adversary and hoped for assistance from the people. 
On the fourteenth of May he assumed the dictator- 
ship of the island in the name of Victor Emanuel, 
and the next day, with the aid of some hundred 
revolutionists, defeated General Laudi's force of 
three thousand men who were occupying the heights 
of Calatafimi. When the Garibaldians lit their 
watchfires that night on the field of victory, they 
had good cause for rejoicing. The first battle had 
been fought and won. The Neapolitan troops were 
fleeing in confusion toward Alcamo. The people's 
leader had shown that he could defeat a king's 
army, and the Neapolitans had learned to fear the 

[6 5 ] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



tri-colored banner and the red shirt. While the 
Neapolitan generals were vainly searching for Gari- 
baldi in the mountains, he was already pressing 
on towards Palermo, the capital, meeting with strong 
support from the people everywhere. After three 
days of hard fighting before that city, it capitulated, 
and was occupied by the revolutionists, although 
two weeks elapsed before the dictator could follow 
up his victory. At the end of that time he again 
took the war-path and at Melazzo surprised the 
columns of General Bosco, who was in command of 
the finest and best disciplined troops in Sicily. 

On the twenty-eighth of June the Neapolitans 
were forced to evacuate Messina, and a few days 
later the "red shirts," whose force had now increased 
to about twenty thousand men, camped in the streets 
of that city, from Taormina to Capo del Faro. Sicily 
was won. Garibaldi now turned his glances toward 
the mainland, whose mountains towered threaten- 
ingly above him across the straits, and on the even- 
ing of the twenty-first of August the banner of Italy 
floated above the fortifications of Reggio, the strong- 
est post in Calabria. The defence of Reggio was the 
last effort of the royalist army south of Naples. De- 
feated and disheartened, they retreated northward, 
leaving the fortified towns to vie with one another 
in throwing open their gates to the conquerors. The 
fleet, too, seemed paralyzed. It made no effort to 
prevent the passage of Garibaldi's men from Sicily, 
but proceeded northward to Naples without having 
[66] 



GARIBALDI 



fired a gun. Europe was dumb with amazement 
at the audacity of these champions of liberty. Gari- 
baldi's march from the southern extremity of Italy 
to Naples appeared at that time, as it still does, like 
a tale of the imagination. It seemed incredible 
that the splendid army created by King Ferdinand 
with the labors and sacrifices of thirty years could 
go to pieces like a building in an earthquake. Of 
course there were many reasons for this, but the 
chief one was Garibaldi himself. No man could 
have been better fitted for the leadership of such a 
movement. Glowing with patriotism and love of 
liberty, inspired with the idea of Italian unity, yet 
at the same time a true democrat, friend of the 
oppressed and foe to tyranny, disinterested, self- 
sacrificing, bold, and daring, a knight without fear 
and without reproach, he seemed created to be an 
ideal popular hero. Wherever he appeared in his 
red shirt and black felt hat he aroused the wildest 
enthusiasm; and popular fancy soon invested him 
with a halo of glory almost equal to that of 
William Tell in Switzerland or Joan of Arc in 
France. 

By forced marches Garibaldi continued his trium- 
phant progress, giving the royal troops no time to 
recover themselves. Twenty days after he had first 
set foot on the shores of Naples, he was at Salerno, 
only a few miles from the capital. Everywhere he 
was hailed as a liberator, his army welcomed with 
flowers and recruits where they had expected to 

' [67] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



find only foes. Well might he have said with Caesar, 
"I came, I saw, I conquered!" 

These events created the greatest consternation 
at the court of Naples, and many royalists fled the 
country in terror. The dowager Queen's father, 
Archduke Charles of Austria, had advised King 
Ferdinand many years before to fortify Gaeta and 
Capua strongly, so as to have a safe retreat in case 
of revolution; and mindful of her father's words, 
Maria Theresa immediately betook herself to Gaeta 
with all her children. 

On the news of Garibaldi's landing, Francis had 
consulted the Duke de Chambord as to the state of 
affairs. "With the enemy at the gates, there is no 
time for concessions and reforms," the head of the 
house of Bourbon replied. "The King should mount 
and lead his troops against this Garibaldi and his 
followers!" This answer was quite in accordance 
with the young Queen's opinion. She had been 
strongly in favor of the alliance with Victor Emanuel; 
but now that the opportunity for that was past and 
the enemy was advancing, it seemed to her there 
could be no other course than to take up arms in 
defence of the kingdom. Mirabeau declared that 
Marie Antoinette was the only man about Louis 
the Sixteenth, and those who were with Maria 
Sophia at this time have said the same of her; for 
she seemed to be the only one at court who did not 
lose her head. She tried in every way to encourage 
her husband and urge him to fight; but to her 
[68] 



GARIBALDI 



despair Francis seemed incapable of arriving at any 
decisive course of action. He wavered to and fro 
like a reed in the wind, doubtful of himself and 
suspicious of all about him; seeking for support 
now here, now there, but unable to decide on any- 
thing till it was too late, and the time for parleying 
was past. 



[6 9 ] 



Chapter X 
The Flight from Naples 



ON the fourth of September news was received 
that Garibaldi was nearing Naples with a 
large army, the number of which was enor- 
mously exaggerated, however. The King hastily 
summoned a council in the middle of the night. The 
only remedy for the situation now would have been 
to attempt to block Garibaldi's approach by attack- 
ing him at Salerno, which was connected with Naples 
by rail; but General Bosco, who was in favor of this 
course, was ill in bed, and his views were not shared 
by the other commanders, who feared the revolu- 
tionists might effect a landing nearer the city, thus 
cutting off the troops from a retreat. They all 
agreed that it was better to make Capua and Gaeta 
the centre of operations against the enemy, and the 
only dissenting voice was that of the aged General 
Carrascosa, who declared to the King, "If Your 
Majesty leaves Naples now, you will never return!" 

His words made no impression, however. Francis 
left it to the generals to decide; but they refused to 
take the responsibility. 

As a last resort, Maria Sophia pointed out to her 
husband that it was his duty to prevent his capital 

[70] 



FLIGHT FROM NAPLES 



from being destroyed by a bombardment; and in 
this appeal she was joined by Cardinal Riario Sforza, 
who besought the King to save Naples from fire and 
sword. He was thinking, no doubt, of the one hun- 
dred and eighty churches within the city walls; but 
his words had the desired effect, for Francis had 
the deepest reverence for anything that concerned 
religion. The next morning he summoned Sforza to 
the palace and informed him that he had decided 
to withdraw the army to a strong position between 
Capua and Gaeta. At the same time he requested 
his trusted counsellor, Spinelli, to assist him in draw- 
ing up a farewell proclamation to the people; and 
after this had been accomplished, he went out to 
drive with the Queen in an open carriage, escorted 
by two gentlemen of the court. It was their last 
ride through the streets of Naples. 

Francis, however, did not betray the slightest 
anxiety over the important step he was about to 
take; and as for the Queen, she was apparently in 
her usual spirits, laughing and joking with the King 
and her two cavaliers : yet how often in those weary 
years of exile must their thoughts have reverted in 
memory to that scene they now looked upon with 
such indifference! 

At the end of the Strada di Chiaja, directly in 
front of the court apothecary's shop, the royal 
carriage was stopped by a long line of loaded wagons. 
The apothecary had a sign over his door, bearing the 
Bourbon lilies, and a man was now mounted on a 

[71] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



ladder busily engaged in removing it. The Duke 
of San Donato, who happened to be passing, was 
furious at the sight and expressed his anger in no 
measured terms; but neither Francis nor Maria 
Sophia showed the least displeasure. They only 
looked at each other and laughed at the apothecary's 
foresight. The following morning the King's proc- 
lamation was displayed on every street corner in 
Naples. It was calm and dignified in tone, and 
expressed less resentment than resignation. At the 
same time he issued a protest to all the foreign 
powers against Garibaldi's invasion of his territory, 
together with an assertion of his rights. It was no 
small task to prepare for so sudden a flight, and 
there was little sleep that night in the palace. Huge 
vans were loaded and sent off secretly under military 
guard, and their contents carried early the next 
morning on board two steamships which lay at 
anchor in the harbor; but in the hurry, only personal 
belongings were taken, and all the treasures of the 
palace, such as the vast quantities of gold and silver 
plate that had been accumulated during the hundred 
and twenty-six years of Bourbon rule in Naples, were 
left behind and afterwards confiscated by Garibaldi 
and turned over to the provisional Government. All 
that Francis carried away with him, except for a 
chest containing various relics and images of saints, 
were a painting of St. Peter, a statue and marble 
bust of Pope Pius the Ninth, a Titian portrait of 
Alexander Farnese, and a Holy Family by Raphael. 

[72] 



FLIGHT FROM NAPLES 



Of these, the last was undoubtedly the most val- 
uable; but even this splendid work of art the 
young sovereigns did not keep. The Spanish 
ambassador, Bermudez de Castro, begged Francis 
to give it to him, and the good-natured King con- 
sented. De Castro afterward tried to sell it to the 
Louvre galleries, but was not satisfied with the 
price offered. He then sent it to the South 
Kensington Museum in London, where by an 
unskilful attempt at restoration it lost so much of 
its beauty and value that no one would buy it. 
In his will the ambassador returned it to the 
exiled King; but neither Francis nor Maria Sophia 
ever claimed it, and the painting still remains at 
South Kensington. 

On the morning of the sixth of September, Francis 
sent for the commander of the National Guard, and 
after expressing his thanks for their loyal support, 
repeated the comforting assurance that the troops 
had received strict orders to protect the capital. He 
had prepared a list of those of his court whom he 
wished to accompany him to Gaeta; but when the 
time came to leave, the royal master of the horse, 
Count Michaelo Imperiale, was the only member of 
the royal household present. The King was so 
touched by his devotion that he presented him on 
the spot with the Grand Cross of the Order of San 
Fernando. 

About four o'clock in the afternoon the ministers 
repaired in a body to the palace to take leave of their 

[73] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



sovereign, whose hand they were to kiss for the last 
time under his own roof. Francis tried hard to con- 
trol himself, speaking kindly to all, and tenderly 
embracing his two most devoted friends, Torella 
and Spinelli. But the number present was pitifully 
small. Those who had received the most favor at 
the hands of their sovereigns were as usual the first 
to desert them. Nor were there any special mani- 
festations of regret and sympathy among the popu- 
lace at the departure of the King and Queen, which 
was regarded merely as a measure for assuring the 
safety of the city, while Garibaldi's approach was 
anticipated with mingled hope and fear. 

About half-past six Francis and Maria Sophia 
left the palace on foot, he in uniform as usual, she 
in an ordinary travelling dress and large straw hat 
trimmed with flowers. Accompanied by several 
ladies and gentlemen of the court, they walked 
through the palace gardens and down the long 
flight of steps that led to the arsenal, the Queen 
leaning on her husband's arm, gay and cheerful as 
ever in spite of the ominous cloud that shadowed 
their departure. Below them lay the Gulf of Naples, 
smooth and bright as silver; but in the distance the 
bare, sombre peak of Vesuvius rose like a menace 
amid the smiling beauty of nature. The firemen of 
the ship in which the royal party was to embark 
had had to be kept on board by force, and some 
advised the King to place himself under the protec- 
tion of some foreign flag, or to escape from the city 

[74] 



FLIGHT FROM NAPLES 



secretly. Undecided, as usual, Francis knew neither 
what he could do, nor what he ought to do; but the 
captain of the vessel, who was thoroughly loyal, 
finally persuaded him to go on board, urging that it 
would be beneath the King's dignity to flee from his 
capital like a criminal. 

Only one Italian vessel accompanied the King, 
but with it were two Spanish warships carrying the 
Austrian, Prussian, and Spanish ambassadors. The 
journey was most depressing. It had been decided 
upon so suddenly that no one thought of taking 
such ordinary things as food or even the few neces- 
saries that would have made them comfortable. It 
was a wonderfully beautiful night, and the Queen sat 
on deck until ten o'clock, when it grew cold. Worn 
out with the fatigues and excitement of the last 
twenty-four hours, she went into the little deck cabin 
and lay down on a sofa. The King did not go to bed 
at all. Except for a few words now and then with the 
Captain, he spent the night silently pacing up and 
down the deck, watching the shores of Naples grad- 
ually fade from view, and thinking, who knows what? 

About two o'clock he asked whether the Queen 
had retired, and when told she was still asleep in 
the little cabin he went in and stood for a long time 
gazing down at her. Then removing his own cloak 
he gently spread it over her to protect her from the 
chill of the night air, and returned to his silent 
watch. Early the next morning they entered the 
harbor of Gaeta, and were met at the landing by 

[75] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Maria Theresa and her children with Father Borelli, 
her confessor. Francis had consulted this priest 
some months before as to the advisability of granting 
his subjects a more liberal form of government, and 
Father Borelli had merely echoed the views of the 
deceased King, declaring that such a course would 
only hasten a revolution, and warning him against it. 

"I believe you are right," Francis answered, "but 
fear it will be impossible for me to follow your 
advice." 

"Then Your Majesty may perhaps remember this 
day as the last on which I shall kiss the hand of a 
King of Naples," returned the priest. 

This conversation now recurred to them both, as 
Borelli came forward to greet the King, kissing his 
hand again and again with tears in his eyes. 

"Father," said Francis, with a melancholy smile, 
"do you remember what you said to me on St. John's 
Day at Portici?" 

"Ah, Your Majesty," replied Borelli, "even though 
you should no longer be a King on earth, you may 
yet become a saint in heaven." 

Francis and Maria Sophia had no sooner left the 
capital than a deputation was sent out to welcome 
the liberator, while the former minister of foreign 
affairs prepared an address to Garibaldi, declaring 
that Naples was waiting with impatience to greet 
him as the deliverer of Italy, and lay the fate of the 
kingdom in his hands. They did not have long to 

[76] 



FLIGHT FROM NAPLES 



wait. The popular hero hastened his advance, and 
arrived so quickly that there was barely time to pre- 
pare for his reception. There was little sleep that 
night in Naples, and the first rays of the morning sun 
found the whole city astir. The principal thorough- 
fares were thronged with men, most of them armed, 
for fear of a reactionary movement. Windows, 
balconies, even the roofs of houses were crowded 
with spectators. Everything conspired to surround 
Garibaldi and his men with a halo of romance. 
Their picturesque garb, rapid conquests, and fiery 
proclamations appealed to the imagination of the 
hot-blooded southerners and roused them to wildest 
enthusiasm. Guards had been placed at all the 
exits of the railway station, where a large number 
of prominent citizens had assembled to welcome the 
hero. Presently a bell was heard, and a train drew 
in. A great shout arose; but it was found to contain 
only a band of foreign mercenaries who had recently 
joined the victorious party. At noon another bell 
sounded, and Garibaldi's approach was signalled. 
The train stopped. Thousands of voices joined in 
the shout of "Long live Garibaldi!" as two men in 
red shirts appeared. They were embraced with such 
vehemence by the excited Neapolitans that one of 
them, who was taken for Garibaldi, barely escaped 
alive. The great man himself had gone out by an- 
other door, however, and when this was discovered 
there was a general stampede to find him. This 
time they were successful. 

[773 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Garibaldi's entry into Naples was as brilliant and 
spectacular as the rightful sovereign's departure had 
been quiet and unnoticed. A huge national flag 
had been unfurled, bearing the arms of the house of 
Savoy, with the white horse of Naples and the lion 
of Venice; and Garibaldi kissed this with tears roll- 
ing down his cheeks, declaring, "Soon we shall all 
be united brethren!" while many of the spectators 
also wept. He and a few of his companions then 
entered the open carriages that were waiting to 
convey him to the city. Eight thousand of the royal 
troops had been left in the citadel and a few outposts 
to maintain order; but they had received no orders 
to resist the revolutionists, and even had such been 
the case, it is doubtful if they would have obeyed, so 
carried away were they by the tide of popular enthu- 
siasm, as, amid deafening cheers, the waving of hun- 
dreds of tri-colored banners and showers of blossoms 
from every window, Garibaldi entered in triumph 
the gayly decorated city, while even the skies seemed 
to share the joy of the people and smile upon the 
liberator of "La Bella Napoli." 

He refused to occupy the royal palace which had 
been so lately vacated by the sovereigns, but drove 
on to a smaller one, generally used fo r the accommo- 
dation of foreign princes, where he took up his 
quarters. Vast crowds surged about the building, 
shouting for the Dictator, till at length one of the 
revolutionists appeared on a balcony, then another, 
and finally the hero himself. Again a storm of 

[78] 



FLIGHT FROM NAPLES 



cheers broke forth, and, unable to make himself 
heard above the uproar, he leaned over the iron 
railing and gazed down at the throng below. His 
usually ruddy face was pale with emotion, and 
wore a look of sadness curiously in contrast to 
the feverish joy of his admirers; but there was a 
gleam in his eye that betrayed the fires that glowed 
within. He lifted his hand to command silence, 
then began in tones so clear and distinct that not 
a syllable escaped the ear: 

" Neapolitans! This is a solemn and memorable 
day. After long years of oppression under the yoke 
of tyranny, you are to-day a free people. I thank 
you in the name of all Italy. You have completed 
a great work, not only for your countrymen but for 
all mankind, whose rights you have upheld. Long 
live freedom! the dearer to Italy, since she, of all 
nations, has suffered the most. Long live Italy!" 

The shout was taken up by thousands of throats 
and. their " Viva Italia!" could have been heard from 
one end of the city to the other. 

That afternoon Garibaldi visited the cathedral 
and was greeted with even greater enthusiasm than 
in the morning. At night every house was illumi- 
nated, and a torch-light procession paraded through 
the principal streets, which were filled with excited 
throngs rushing about, every man with a flag in one 
hand and a sword or a knife in the other, shouting 
and embracing one another for joy. Garibaldi was 
the idol of the hour, and Naples was his completely. 

[79] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



But here and there were still a few who remained 
loyal to the reigning family and were anxious as to 
their fate. Francis, in his haste, had neglected to 
remove his private fortune of eleven million ducats — 
the dowry Queen Maria Christina had brought with 
her from Sardinia — from the Bank of Naples where 
it was kept. When Garibaldi learned this he sent 
for the man to whom the receipt had been entrusted, 
an officer of the royal household named Rispoli, 
and forced him to give up the document, which, after- 
ward, he handed over to the new government. 

Poor Rispoli, who was devoted to his master, was 
so overcome at being deprived of his trust that he 
was stricken with apoplexy and died the following 
day. 



[so] 



Chapter XI 

Siege of Gaeta 



IT is probable that Francis at the time of his 
departure from Naples had no definite ideas as 
to how far he should offer resistance to the 
course of events. His friends urged him to wait 
quietly till the first wave of enthusiasm had passed, 
hoping he might then return to the throne as a mem- 
ber of an Italian confederation. From Gaeta he went 
with his brothers to Capua, where their presence did 
much to restore unity among the royal troops and 
revive their sinking courage, and where he was 
speedily joined by all who had anything to gain by 
adhering to the Bourbon cause or were too deeply 
compromised to venture to remain in Naples under 
the new regime. A much more valuable addition 
to the King's forces, however, was a large number 
of volunteers from southern Germany, who had 
hastened to the aid of their fair countrywoman, 
and to whose valor it was largely owing that they 
were able to hold out so long. 

The arsenal and other stores in Naples had fallen 
into the hands of the enemy; but after Francis had 
collected and organized his troops beyond the Vol- 
turno, he found himself with fifty thousand well 

[81] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



provisioned and equipped men at his command. 
Fired now for the first time with true martial spirit, 
he determined to cut his way through Garibaldi's 
forces to Naples, where, he was assured by secret 
agents, the fickle populace would welcome him 
back with open arms. On the first of October, 
at daybreak, accordingly, the attack was begun; 
but the royal troops were defeated and driven back 
across the Volturno, the gates of Capua being thrown 
open at five o'clock that afternoon to admit the 
fugitives. 

Victor Emanuel had already determined to take 
a hand in affairs, although Naples had voted unani- 
mously for the annexation of the Two Sicilies to an 
" Italia una," and was by this time well on his way 
thither to assist in the reorganization of this new 
portion of his domains. The news of his approach 
spread terror and despair among the King's forces; 
but Francis and his generals decided to await the 
enemy in a strong position on the further bank of 
the Garigliano, where on the twenty-eighth of October 
they were fortunate enough to repel an attack. But 
the advantage was a brief one. Capua soon had 
to be abandoned and, led by Victor Emanuel himself, 
the Piedmontese crossed the Garigliano, forcing the 
Neapolitans to retire within the shelter of Gaeta. 

This town, often called from its location the 
Gibraltar of Italy, is one of the most strongly fortified 
places on the peninsula, and has played a prominent 
part in the wars of southern Italy. The Bay of Gaeta 

[82] 



SIEGE OF GAETA 



not only compares well with the gulf of Naples in 
beauty, but as a harbor is even better adapted to 
commerce, being both larger and deeper. The town 
is situated some sixteen miles from Naples, ten 
from Capua, three from the boundaries of what 
were then the Papal States, and seventeen from 
Rome; forming with San Germano and Capua a 
trio of defences capable of offering a long and stout 
resistance. 

Gaeta at this time had a population of about 
fifteen thousand. It was a gay and picturesque 
little town, irregularly but not unattractively built, 
with well-paved if somewhat steep and narrow streets. 
Tradition points to a neighboring grove as the spot 
where Cicero was murdered by Antony's orders; and 
between the citadel and the shore are some ruins 
called by the people the tower of Roland, where a 
friend of the Emperor Augustus was buried. The 
town and the citadel are situated on two rocky 
heights, separated by a steep cleft, the greater part 
of the town occupying the southernmost of these, 
while on the northern and much the larger one, rises 
the citadel with its fortifications. Both are prac- 
tically inaccessible from the sea, while the west side 
of the neck of land, that connects the mainland with 
the outer point, also falls away steeply. Small 
villages line the shore; and still farther to the south, 
where the coast recedes so deeply that the bay lies 
between it and Gaeta, is the town of Mola, where 
the Piedmontese established their headquarters. It 

[8 3 ] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



would seem that Victor Emanuel's generals, made 
over-confident by the easy victories they had met 
with thus far in the Kingdom of Naples, scarcely 
looked for any serious resistance here. 

But supported by a French fleet which protected 
the coast, by the presence of a well equipped and 
disciplined army, and above all by his heroic wife, 
Francis had at length determined to hold out in 
spite of everything. In the citadel, besides the King 
and Queen, were Maria Theresa with her five sons 
and four daughters, the youngest of whom was not 
yet three years old; the King's two uncles, the 
Prince of Capua and the Count of Trapani; a few 
faithful friends who had followed their sovereign, 
and all the diplomatic corps, with the exception of 
the English and French ambassadors, who had re- 
ceived explicit orders from their Governments to 
remain in Naples to report what was passing there. 
All communication between Francis and the Emperor 
Napoleon, therefore, had to be carried on through the 
French admiral. 

In spite of their recent experiences, the royal 
family did not seem to realize at first the seriousness 
of the situation. Gaeta had a garrison of twenty-one 
thousand men, and the citadel was well supplied with 
ammunition, while provisions for the army could 
easily be obtained from the Papal States, through 
the ports of Terracina and Civita Vecchia. The 
Count of Trapani was in nominal command, but the 
real leader of the defence was General Bosco. At 

[8 4 ] 



SIEGE OF GAETA 



the time of his surrender to Garibaldi in Sicily, this 
able officer had sworn not to take up arms for six 
months; but this period had now elapsed, and his 
return inspired the royal family with hope and con- 
fidence. 

On the thirteenth of November, i860, the bom- 
bardment of Gaeta was begun by the Piedmontese, 
whose fire was vigorously returned from the citadel. 
A week later the dowager Queen retired to Rome 
with her younger children, and on the same day the 
diplomats took their departure, all except the 
Spanish ambassador, Bermudez de Castro, who was 
a personal friend of the King. Even the Archbishop 
of Gaeta deserted the sinking ship, though his place 
should have been now, more than ever, with his flock. 
Francis tried to persuade Maria Sophia to leave him, 
and go to her home in Bavaria while it was yet 
possible, but she absolutely refused. More closely 
drawn to her husband in this time of danger than 
ever before, she announced her firm intention of 
remaining with him to the last, even though aban- 
doned by all the world. 

Europe had held but a poor opinion of Francis 
the Second during his short reign. His weakness 
and cowardice had been openly criticised; while in 
Naples itself he had been variously nicknamed 
"Bombino," "Franciscillo," and "II Re Imbecile." 
But in misfortune all his better qualities came to 
the surface. At Gaeta, no longer distracted by con- 
flicting counsels, he became firmer and more manly, 

[8si 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



while his readiness to sacrifice all personal feeling 
to what he believed to be his duty, and his generosity 
toward those who should have been his foes, could 
not but command respect. For example, two Pied- 
montese merchantmen took refuge in the harbor 
of Gaeta one terribly stormy night; but instead of 
seizing them and their cargoes, as would have been 
his right, he permitted them to leave the bay the 
next morning, unmolested. He was constantly visit- 
ing the outworks, inspecting the work, and doing 
his best to keep up the courage of his men, in which 
he was bravely assisted by his two elder half-brothers; 
but the Queen surpassed them all in courage, scorn- 
ing every danger and discomfort and looking death 
calmly in the face. Every day and often at night 
she visited the hospitals, carrying food, medicines, 
and fruit, doing all she could to relieve the sufferers, 
and shrinking from no wound, however terrible. 
Once during the illness of one of the Sisters of Mercy, 
Maria Sophia took her place as nurse, and though 
shells were falling so thick about the hospital tent 
that her life was in constant danger, she refused to 
leave her post. The soldiers were always rejoiced 
to see her and would follow her about with their eyes 
in the most adoring way. They gloried in their 
beautiful, spirited young Queen, dashing about on 
her horse from one to another of the hastily impro- 
vised hospitals that were set up on the different 
batteries. 

The Piedmontese noticed that at the sound of a 
[86] 



SIEGE OF GAETA 



certain bell there always seemed to be some commo- 
tion in the citadel of the besieged city, and curious 
to know the meaning of it, some officers in one of 
the nearest outposts fixed their field-glasses on the 
fortress at that particular time. Much to their 
surprise they discovered a young woman in the 
Calabrian costume, moving about among the guns 
and encouraging the artillerymen, quite regardless 
of the storm of shells that was falling about her. 
It was Maria Sophia, making her daily visit to the 
so-called " Queen's Battery" to watch the firing 
from there, and a striking picture she made in her 
long cloak and Calabrian hat, gay and smiling as 
ever, glorying apparently in danger, and careless of 
her own fate. 

It had been agreed that a black flag should be 
hoisted while the Queen was making her rounds 
among the wounded, and the sign was at first re- 
spected by the enemy, but Maria Sophia herself paid 
no attention to it as she rode calmly about her 
business even in those fortifications exposed to the 
heaviest fire. One day a bomb fell so close to her 
feet that she would certainly have been torn to 
pieces had not an officer seized her in his arms and 
swung her behind a projecting wall. Another day, 
while standing in one of the window embrasures in 
the citadel, talking with the Spanish ambassador, a 
shell burst so near that the window panes were 
shattered and the Queen's face was cut by the flying 
glass. But she only laughed, saying, "It is unkind 

[8 7 ] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



of the enemy to leave me nowhere in peace. They 
have just driven me from one place, and now will 
not let me stay here, either." 

"Ah, but you have had your wish granted, 
madame," replied the Ambassador, "you wanted 
to see a ball as close as possible." 

"Yes, and I also wished for a slight wound," 
added the Queen gayly. 

From Gaeta Francis had issued another procla- 
mation to his subjects, protesting against the new 
order of things, and avowing his good faith toward 
them and the constitution he had granted them, 
in spite of all that had happened; but though widely 
distributed, it was powerless to stem the current of 
events. As we have seen, the King had lost many 
opportunities of securing an advantage at the be- 
ginning of the war. By retreating to Gaeta he was 
placed in the curious position, for a commander, of 
having cut himself off from two-thirds of his army. 
He had given orders for the majority of these to slip 
away across the Roman borders, hoping they might 
be reassembled later, to form the nucleus for an up- 
rising in the Abruzzo Mountains. Reports, however, 
of the terrible treatment received by prisoners at 
the hands of the Piedmontese so alarmed the soldiers 
that they made no attempt to escape till it was too 
late, and the few that did reach Roman territory 
were promptly disarmed. The French fleet, lying 
in the Bay of Gaeta, had proved of inestimable value 
[88] ' 



SIEGE OF GAETA 



in protecting the city from attack by sea. The 
friendly attitude of the Admiral also made it possible 
for the King's friends to furnish him with provisions, 
while the supply ships carried many of the Neapol- 
itan troops away from Gaeta, landing them at Civita 
Vecchia and Terracina. In this way the garrison 
was reduced to fifteen thousand men; but even so, 
the food supply soon began to fall short. 

As early as the twenty-second of November, a 
journalist wrote in his diary that provisions of all 
kinds had doubled in price, and the situation grew 
worse and worse as time went on. Rice, beans, even 
bread, were almost impossible to obtain, and maca- 
roni and potatoes were sold for thrice their usual 
value. Fish and meat were to be had only by the 
officers in small quantities and of the poorest quality. 
Then an epidemic of typhus fever broke out, which 
soon filled every bed in the hospitals. The King 
and Queen did all in their power to obtain nourish- 
ing food for the sick and wounded, sending fish and 
other delicacies procured for their own table to the 
Sisters of Mercy to be distributed in the hospitals. 



[8 9 ] 



Chapter XII 
Capitulation 



HE siege of Gaeta lasted from the thirteenth 



of November, i860, to the thirteenth of 



February, 1861, a space of three months. 
With the new year it was pushed with redoubled 
vigor. Both town and citadel were exposed to 
incessant fire, and the noise was so deafening that 
people had to scream to make themselves heard. 
Not a single building remained intact. Many lives 
were lost by exploding shells or falling houses, and the 
whole place presented a scene of utter destruction. 
The Piedmontese have been accused of sparing neither 
church nor hospital, and the sick and wounded, as 
well as their nurses, were exposed to the same dan- 
gers as the rest of the inhabitants. The Red Cross 
Society was not in existence at that time; but 
the terrible experiences of the wounded in the wars 
of northern Italy the preceding year led to the for- 
mation of that association three years later. 

The enemy's fire now began to be directed chiefly 
against the citadel where the royal family were 
known to reside, and the officers begged the King 
and Queen to move to a place of greater safety. One 
of the casemates of an adjoining battery was accord- 




[90] 



CAPITULATION 



ingly prepared for their occupancy, and here in this 
small damp vault they lived for the remainder of 
the siege, with the princes, the few members of 
the court who had remained loyal, and some of the 
officers. The casemate was divided by thin wooden 
partitions into a number of small chambers, each 
containing a bed, one chair, and a small table. The 
narrow passage connecting these cells was always 
crowded with people waiting to speak to the officers 
and servants who had long since laid aside all badges 
of royal service. 

A low door led to the square chamber occupied 
by the Queen, which was furnished in addition with 
a couch and a prie-dieu; a small recess adjoining 
having been made into a dressing-room. As a pro- 
tection against shells or flying missiles, a heavy oak 
beam had been placed diagonally across the tiny 
window overlooking the street; a precaution which 
made the room so dark a light had to be kept burn- 
ing day and night. The little air that penetrated 
to the cell was thick with smoke and tainted with 
foul odors, while the ceaseless thunder of cannon 
directly above must have made it a far from pleasant 
place of residence. Yet from this gloomy vault 
Maria Sophia wrote her parents not to worry 
about her, for under the circumstances she was 
doing very well. She bore all these dangers and 
hardships with the same cheerful courage she 
had shown from the first, tending the wounded, 
inspiring the soldiers by her presence among them 

[91] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



in the smoke of battle — the soul, in short, of the 
defence, and a splendid example of bravery and for- 
titude. Through the efforts of the French admiral, 
a ten days' truce was arranged, and the Neapolitans 
hastened to take advantage of it to procure a supply 
of provisions from Terracina and to strengthen their 
batteries, while the officers tried to encourage the 
garrison by reports of speedy assistance from with- 
out. On the sixteenth of January the sound of 
guns was heard again; but this time it was not those 
of the besieging army, but of the French fleet which 
had not yet left the harbor, although the Emperor 
Napoleon had notified Francis that it would be im- 
possible for him to continue the neutrality he had 
hitherto maintained. Decorated from deck to mast- 
head with flags, the foreign squadron was saluting 
the King in honor of his twenty-fifth birthday, the 
last he was ever to spend within the boundaries of 
his kingdom. 

Three days later the truce was declared at an end, 
and in the beleaguered city all eyes were fixed 
anxiously upon the fleet. Although there were 
rumors in the air of its departure, the people still 
hoped they might be false as so many others had 
proved. About two o'clock, however, smoke was 
seen rising from one of the vessels, and it was soon 
evident that the whole squadron was getting up 
steam. One after another lifted anchor and began 
to move; and an hour later the huge flagship, La 
Bretagne, glided majestically past the lighthouse on 

[92] 



CAPITULATION 



the outermost point of the harbor, leaving the last 
of the Italian Bourbons to his fate. With the 
French fleet, vanished the last hope of rescue; and 
from this time until the end of the siege, nearly a 
month later, Gaeta was completely cut off from the 
rest of the world, and surrounded on all sides by the 
enemy. With the increase of famine and sickness 
the situation grew daily worse. Help from without 
could no longer be looked for, and rumors of treach- 
ery began to be heard among the troops. The 
barracks were damp, the hospitals overflowing, and 
they were tired of a struggle that could have but one 
end. The King and his brothers worked bravely to 
keep up the courage of the garrison, and the Queen 
was untiring in her efforts to relieve the sick and 
suffering; but even they had lost hope. 

All correspondence between Napoleon and King 
Francis had ceased on the twelfth of December, but 
about the middle of January a vessel arrived from 
France bringing a confidential letter from the Em- 
press Eugenie to Maria Sophia. In it she declared 
frankly and without circumlocution that it would be 
as well to abandon the defence of Gaeta which had 
cost so many lives, since it would be quite useless 
to look for aid from any European power — the latter 
sentence underlined. 

This left no room for misunderstanding. At last 
the King realized that his cause was lost — that all 
his wife's splendid energy and the loyalty of his 
troops had been wasted in a hopeless struggle. On 

[93] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



the twenty-seventh of January he received a letter 
from Napoleon informing him that the French cor- 
vette, La Movette, had been prepared for the accom- 
modation of Their Majesties in case of the surrender 
of Gaeta, and would remain in the Bay of Naples 
awaiting their orders. The town was now only a 
smoking heap of ruins. The explosion of powder 
magazines had caused even greater destruction than 
the enemy's guns, and the casemate in which the 
royal family had taken refuge might be destroyed 
at any moment should the siege be continued. The 
garrison was reduced to twelve thousand men with 
over twelve hundred in the various hospitals, most 
of them victims of the epidemic of typhus which 
had proved so fatal. Among those who had suc- 
cumbed already to the disease were four of the King's 
generals and the priest, Father Borelli, who had 
remained in Gaeta to minister to the sick and 
wounded. 

Francis hesitated no longer, but sent a message 
to the Piedmontese commander-in-chief requesting 
an armistice to arrange articles of capitulation. The 
terms were as follows: the garrison should retain 
their military honors, but remain prisoners until 
the surrender of Messina and the citadel Del Tronto. 
When this had taken place, both officers and men 
were to receive full pay with the choice of entering 
the Piedmontese army or returning to their homes, all 
who were honorably discharged to be pensioned. The 
King and Queen, with the rest of the royal family, 

[94] 



CAPITULATION 



were to be permitted to embark on the French vessel 
which had been placed at their disposal, with as 
many persons as they wished to take with them in 
their suite. 

The capitulation was signed on the thirteenth of 
February, and the next morning at eight o'clock 
La Movette entered the Bay of Gaeta. The troops 
were already drawn up in long lines, extending from 
the casemate occupied by the King and Queen to 
the landing; their tattered clothes and wasted forms 
bearing witness to these last terrible months. Mis- 
fortune had formed a close bond between the sur- 
vivors of the siege, and as the soldiers presented 
arms to their sovereigns for the last time, their 
cheeks were wet with tears. 

An eyewitness of the departure of Francis the 
Second and Maria Sophia from Gaeta has described 
the touching scene. The King was in uniform, with 
sword and spurs, the Queen wearing the round Cala- 
brian hat shown in the photograph taken of her at 
that time. The deposed monarch was deadly pale, 
and as gaunt as any of his soldiers. "As for the 
Queen," declared this observer, "I could not see how 
she looked, my eyes were so blinded with tears." 

The people had gathered in crowds, every face 
showing traces of the suffering they had undergone; 
but all seemed to forget their own troubles in the mis- 
fortunes of their sovereigns. When the King and 
Queen appeared, their emotion burst all bounds. 
Many wept aloud as they pressed forward to kiss 

[95] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



the hand of the Queen with far greater warmth and 
enthusiasm than was shown by the people of Bari 
when they greeted her arrival as a bride on the shores 
of Italy, two years before. Only two short years, 
and yet how much had been crowded into them! 
And how different that day from this! 

Francis had already issued a parting proclamation 
to his troops, thanking them in touching terms for 
their devotion to him and to the honor of the army; 
and as La Movette, flying the banner of the Bourbons, 
glided slowly out of the harbor, a unanimous and 
deafening shout of "Evviva il Re!" was their last 
farewell to the exiled sovereign. The French on 
the corvette welcomed their guests with royal honors, 
the officers in full uniform and the sailors lined up 
on deck to receive them. With the King and Queen 
were the Counts of Trani and Caserta and three of 
the Neapolitan generals. During the journey from 
Gaeta to Terracina, Francis and his brothers showed 
the greatest calmness, conversing cheerfully with 
their suite, and the French officers could not refrain 
from expressing their admiration at the King's dig- 
nified acceptance of his fate. Maria Sophia had 
remained alone on the after deck, leaning over the 
railing, her eyes fixed on the cliffs of Gaeta. The 
smiling landscape seemed an irony of her mood. A 
gloomy sky would have been more suited to the 
thoughts that filled her bosom. She remembered 
with what noble aims she had come to this new land, 
what fine resolutions to share in all works for pro- 

[96] 



CAPITULATION 



moting the welfare of the people over whom she had 
been called to rule — and what had been the result? 
Even her labors at Gaeta had been in vain. 

As LaMovette passed the battery " Santa Maria, " 
a royal salute was fired, and soon after the corvette 
rounded the point and Gaeta was lost to sight. The 
crew hauled down the Bourbon lilies and hoisted the 
French tri-color — Maria Sophia was no longer a 
Queen. She turned away with a chill at her heart. 
The deck was empty and a cold wind had suddenly 
arisen, banishing the warmth of the sunshine and 
sending a shiver through her from head to foot. 



[97] 



Chapter XIII 
After the Fall of Gaeta 



HE news of the fall of Gaeta was hailed with 



joy by the fickle Neapolitans, who seized the 



A occasion as a welcome excuse for more 
parades and festivities, with dancing and singing 
from morning till night. The day after the departure 
of Francis and Maria Sophia, the garrison evacu- 
ated the town. Officers and soldiers laid down their 
arms before the walls of the citadel, and the forti- 
fications were occupied by the Piedmontese. Soon 
after, the citadel Del Tronto opened its gates to 
Victor Emanuel's troops, and with the surrender of 
Messina on the first of March, the Bourbon lilies 
disappeared from southern Italy. 

On the fifteenth of February, the exiles landed at 
Terracina, heavy at heart, and were escorted by a 
company of French dragoons to Rome, where they 
took up their residence in the Palazzo Farnese as 
guests of Pope Pius the Ninth. Maria Sophia was 
not a devout Catholic like her husband. She had 
not wished to go to Rome, and found no comfort in 
the Holy Father's friendship. The dowager Queen 
was also living in Rome with her children, and the 
close companionship into which the exiles were thus 




[98] 



FALL OF GAETA 



forced by circumstances did not tend to improve the 
relations between the ex-Queen and her mother-in-law. 

In times of trouble we naturally turn to our kin 
for sympathy, and Maria Sophia was seized with 
desperate longing for her mother and her Bavarian 
home. Early in April, therefore, she set out for 
Possenhofen, accompanied by General Bosco. The 
two years she had spent in Naples had been far from 
happy. She returned a queen without a crown, 
deprived of all save honor. But the familiar scenes 
and faces, and above all the comfort of pouring out 
her heart to the strong, noble mother, who had suf- 
fered so much herself, restored her courage, and she 
soon became her cheerful, lively self once more, her 
eyes sparkling with animation, full of spirit and 
energy. 

The young Queen's heroic behavior during the 
defence of Gaeta had taken Europe by storm. Her 
praises were on every tongue, and the beauty, the 
courage, the warm-heartedness of the " Heroine of 
Gaeta" were lauded in prose and verse. She was 
deluged with tokens of admiration and sympathy, 
among which were a gold laurel wreath from the 
princesses of Germany and a sword of honor from 
the women of Paris. The dowager Queen, Maria 
Theresa, had not yet given up hope that she and her 
children might return to Naples. Since Francis the 
Second had proved himself incapable of maintaining 
his place on Ferdinand's throne, she was more de- 
termined than ever that her own eldest son should 

[99] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



occupy it; and in order to prevent any opposition 
on the part of the Wittelsbach and Hapsburg fam- 
ilies, she succeeded in arranging a marriage between 
the Count of Trani and Maria Sophia's sister 
Mathilde soon after the arrival of the exiles in Rome, 
neither of the young people's wishes in the matter 
having been consulted in the least. Maria Sophia 
returned to Rome after a month's stay with her 
parents, and in May the bridegroom went to Munich 
to meet his unknown bride. This prince was far 
more attractive than his stepbrother in outward 
appearance, having a frank, winning manner and 
the utmost propriety of behavior. The wedding was 
put off for a month, that the young people might 
become better acquainted, the Count accompany- 
ing the ducal family to Possenhofen, where he occu- 
pied a neighboring villa on Starnberg Lake. 

On the sixth of June, 1861, the ceremony took 
place in the ducal palace at Munich, and the next 
morning the newly married pair set out on their 
wedding journey, escorted as far as Zurich by the 
bride's parents and sisters. At Marseilles a Spanish 
warship was waiting to convey them to Civita 
Vecchia, where they were warmly welcomed by the 
ex-King and Queen of Naples, who accompanied 
them back to Rome. 

Immediately after the fall of Gaeta, Francis had 
despatched a letter to the Emperor Napoleon, thank- 
ing him for the friendly interest he had shown and 
expressing his appreciation of the courteous treat- 
[100] 



FALL OF GAETA 



ment he and his wife had received from the officers 
of La Movette. As yet the exiled sovereign scarcely 
knew how his position was regarded by the Euro- 
pean powers; Victor Emanuel had already assumed 
the title of King of Italy, and this moved Francis 
to issue a circular urging them to discountenance any 
pretensions on the part of the King of Sardinia. 

It is doubtful whether he had at first any idea of 
continuing the struggle, but he had no sooner arrived 
in Rome than he became the centre of a counter 
revolution planned by the Legitimist and Papist 
party, the object of which was to make Naples again 
an absolute monarchy, this being regarded as the 
surest safeguard of the Pope's temporal power in 
Rome. The dowager Queen contributed a large 
share of her property to aid this undertaking, and 
Francis himself gave all he could spare of the little 
he had been able to retain of his private fortune. 
But all in vain. The attempt was unsuccessful 
and the Bourbon cause in Italy hopelessly lost. 

Maria Sophia took no part in these efforts to re- 
cover the lost crown. She had no confidence in her 
husband's ability and strongly disapproved of her 
mother-in-law's intrigues. As Queen of the Two 
Sicilies she had boldly put aside everything that 
interfered with her personal liberty; but under these 
changed conditions and the protection of the papal 
power she had no longer the right to assert her inde- 
pendence or resent the elder woman's jealous oppo- 
sition. The monotony and inactivity to which she 

[IOI] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



was doomed in Rome were torture to her energetic 
spirit, and she became nervous and irritable. By 
way of retaliation and diversion she resorted to all 
sorts of tricks and foolish pranks, which enraged her 
mother-in-law and were little becoming a queen on 
whom the eyes of Europe had been so recently fixed 
with admiration and respect. 

But this unnatural life had much more serious 
results also. Meeting, as she constantly did, men 
far more clever and attractive than the ex-King of 
Naples, it was not strange that the latter should 
have suffered in comparison, although, had he shown 
his love for her in the early days of their married life, 
she might still have preferred him to others. Her 
husband's apparent coldness, however, had chilled 
the warmth of her impulsive nature and turned her 
affections back upon herself. With such a tempera- 
ment and capacity for love, these pent-up emotions 
could not fail to find an outlet sooner or later. A 
Belgian officer won her heart; and Maria Sophia, 
full of life and ardor, forgot her dignity as Queen, 
remembering only that she was young, a woman 
desperately craving affection, alone in a dull, joy- 
less court, where the life was intolerable to her. 

Less than a year after the heroic defence of Gaeta 
it was said that the ex-Queen of Naples was suffering 
from a disease of the lungs, and much alarm was felt 
for her health. Early in the Summer she left Rome, 
accompanied by the Count and Countess of Trani, 
and went to Possenhofen, where the family was once 
[102] 



FALL OF GAETA 



more reunited. Fate had not dealt kindly with the 
Wittelsbach sisters. It was no secret that the Em- 
press of Austria's happiness was wrecked and her 
health deranged, and Helene of Thurn and Taxis had 
fared little better. Elizabeth's marriage to Francis 
Joseph had crushed her ambitious hopes, and the dis- 
appointment had embittered her whole life, although 
it had made no difference in the affectionate rela- 
tions between the sisters, Helene having left her own 
home to accompany the invalid Empress to Madeira. 
Mathilde of Trani had been married only a year; but 
the temperaments of the Count and Countess were 
totally unsuited to each other. The young couple 
had no permanent place of residence, no prospects 
for the future, and the present was full of difficulties. 

It was generally known that the climate and life 
in Rome had seriously affected the health of the ex- 
Queen of Naples; but a mother's sharp eyes soon 
discovered that there was a deeper source of trouble. 
This daughter, who had inherited all her father's 
brilliancy and charm, was especially dear to the 
Duchess Ludovica, and as she had always shared her 
child's joys, she now comforted her in her hour of 
despair. Early in August Maria Sophia left Possen- 
hofen for a sojourn at the baths of Soden, which it 
was hoped would benefit her health, and after a 
visit to her eldest sister at Taxis, returned to Bavaria 
with her mother and the Empress Elizabeth. Francis 
still loved his wife deeply, in spite of the blow his 
faith in her had received, and both he and her own 

[103] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



family tried to persuade her to return to him; but 
her health was still so poor she had little wish to 
expose herself again to the climate of Rome. In 
October she retired to an Ursuline convent at Augs- 
burg, much against the wishes of her family, who 
feared it would appear to the world like a permanent 
separation from her husband. They begged her at 
least to come to Munich and live; but the quiet 
convent life suited Maria and she refused to leave 
her peaceful retreat. 

Next to the Duchess Ludovica, her most frequent 
visitor at Augsburg was Queen Marie of Bavaria, 
who had always been her closest friend, and it was 
she who finally persuaded her cousin to exchange 
the convent for a residence in Munich. In January, 
1863, Maria Sophia moved to the Schloss Bieder- 
stein, situated close to the English gardens and one 
of the most beautiful spots in the Bavarian capital. 
Again and again the ex-King of Naples made offers 
of reconciliation, and at length his patience and de- 
votion touched his wife's heart. Possibly, also, her 
eyes were gradually opened to the silent martyrdom 
he, on his own part, had endured so long and which 
she at the time had little understood or appreciated. 
It was not until two or three months later, however, 
that she finally decided to return to Italy. On the 
thirteenth of April she arrived once more in Rome, 
where she was warmly welcomed by her husband 
and all the friends of the exiled family, after an 
absence of nearly a year. 
[104] 



Chapter XIV 
Royalty in Exile 



OF all the sovereigns of Europe, Maximilian of 
Baden had been the most loyal champion 
of King Francis's cause. Neither Garibaldi's 
triumphant progress, nor Victor Emanuel's victories, 
nor the unanimous shouts of six million people for 
"Italia una" could reconcile him to the new state 
of affairs. He had been ill for a long time, and in 
the Autumn of 1863 his physicians recommended a 
sojourn in the south. So strong was his feeling, 
however, against the new ruler of Italy, that rather 
than pass through any part of his dominions, he 
travelled by way of Switzerland to Marseilles, and 
there boarded a vessel that would land him in papal 
territory. 

The voyage was terribly rough and the King 
suffered so acutely with seasickness that it brought 
on an attack of his old complaint. Fearful of the 
consequences of continuing the voyage, his physi- 
cian declared he must be taken ashore at all costs; 
but the sea was too high to permit of the vessel's 
landing, so the suffering monarch had to be lowered 
into an open boat on a mattress and rowed ashore 
by two sailors. Fortunately, they succeeded in 

[105] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



reaching land safely near San Stefano, where they 
were met by the French consul, and King Max, more 
dead than alive, was cared for so attentively that he 
was able to continue his journey to Civita Vecchia 
by carriage the next morning, arriving in Rome the 
following day. Here he took up his residence in 
the Villa Mattei, and his health began to improve 
at once. 

Maria Sophia was overjoyed to see her cousin 
again. She herself was far from well, and had been 
urged by her physicians to leave Rome; but Max, to 
whom she was devoted, begged her to remain, and 
she yielded to his wishes. In December, however, 
her condition became so alarming that Francis was 
forced to leave with her at once for Venice, a change 
of air being absolutely necessary if her life was to 
be preserved. The ex-King realized at last that it 
was out of the question for his wife to live in Rome, 
and henceforth they spent only the winter months 
there. In the purer air of Venice she soon began 
to gain strength and was able once more to enjoy 
her favorite recreations. The relations between 
Maria Sophia and her husband had much improved, 
and while he had no sympathy with her tastes, nor 
was able to join her in her rides, he no ionger opposed 
her in the indulgence of them. 

Meanwhile the Schleswig-Holstein affair had be- 
come a burning question in Germany. King Fred- 
erick the Seventh of Denmark had died, and in the 
latter part of November news was received in 
[106] 



ROYALTY IN EXILE 



Munich of Prussia's protest against his successor, 
the Duke of Augustenburg. Public feeling ran high, 
and the issue of events was anxiously awaited. 
Under these circumstances the people of Bavaria 
felt the need of their sovereign's presence among 
them and King Max was obliged to leave Rome. 
Although so much improved in health that his phy- 
sicians held out hope of a permanent cure, he was 
still too ill to travel. He suffered a relapse soon 
after reaching home, and died three months later, 
deeply mourned both by his subjects and his family. 

In the Autumn of 1867 an epidemic of cholera 
broke out in Italy. The dowager Queen insisted 
on remaining in her Albanian villa, though all her 
children had hastily left the country. Deserted by 
her family and her court, the widow of Ferdinand 
the Second fell a victim to the scourge. Even the 
servants had fled, and the only person with her at 
her death was an old Neapolitan nobleman who had 
been a friend of her husband's. Although Maria 
Theresa's star had long since set, he remained faith- 
ful to the last, tending and caring for her while she 
lay ill, and accompanying her body — the only 
mourner — to its last resting-place in the neighbor- 
ing churchyard. 

The relations between Francis and Maria Sophia 
had never been actually unpleasant; but after the 
death of the Queen dowager, they became more 
attached to each other. Together they made fre- 

[107] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



quent visits to their various relatives or entertained 
them in Rome during the Winters. The Empress 
Elizabeth especially was a frequent visitor. These 
two sisters, as unlike in character as in their cir- 
cumstances, had never lost any of their sisterly 
affection for each other. Maria Sophia was with the 
Empress in Hungary when her youngest daughter, 
Marie Valerie, was born in 1868, and had shared her 
joy in that happy event. With it, however, was a 
feeling of sadness for herself, childless and, in a way, 
homeless. Children of her own would have given 
life a new aspect to her, and she felt she would have 
been a different woman. But it was not her way to 
indulge in vain regrets. She had long been indif- 
ferent toward the world; her only interest now was 
in her dogs and horses, and she would spend whole 
days in the saddle, riding the wildest and most un- 
governable animals. Once, on one of these rides, 
she met with an accident, from the effects of which 
she was long in recovering, and her husband's quiet 
devotion during this time furnished a proof of his 
affection for her that drew them still closer together. 

Maria Sophia's joy was boundless when, on Christ- 
mas Eve, 1869, after ten years of married life, she 
gave birth to a daughter in Rome. Four days later, 
the little princess was christened, Pius the Ninth, 
who performed the ceremony himself, acting as 
godfather, and the Empress Elizabeth as godmother. 
She received the names Maria Christina Louisa 
Pia, for her two grandmothers and the Holy Father. 

[108] 



ROYALTY IN EXILE 



But the happiness of the ex-King and Queen was 
destined to be of short duration, for their only child 
lived but three months. She died in the following 
March, and was buried in Rome. 

The withdrawal of the French troops from 
Rome in 1870 to take part in the war against 
Germany, put an end to the temporal power of the 
Popes. Pius the Ninth was forced to relinquish 
the Quirinal to the same bold conqueror who had 
deprived Francis and Maria Sophia of their kingdom, 
and thereafter they had no permanent residence in 
Rome. As long as the Duke and Duchess Max 
lived, they spent the summers in Bavaria, travelling 
about from place to place during the Winter. The 
greater part of Francis the Second's property, some 
twenty million lire, had been confiscated by the new 
Italian Government, which offered to refund it on 
condition of his formally renouncing all rights to 
the crown he had already lost; but this he refused 
to do. "A man does not sell his honor," was his 
unfailing reply. Eventually he was paid back his 
mother's dowry; but the immense sum that King 
Ferdinand had settled on his eldest son at the time 
of his marriage to Maria Sophia was appropriated 
by Victor Emanuel, as were the contents of the 
royal palace. Many of the paintings and works of 
art are still shown at "Capo di Monte" in Naples, 
to the indignation of many of the sovereigns of 
Europe. 

[109] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Although the climate of Rome had never agreed 
with Maria Sophia, both she and her husband often 
declared that they had never really known the 
terrors of exile till they were forced to leave Italy. 
Francis never quite gave up hope that some turn of 
events would pave the way for his return to his own 
and his father's throne; but the heroine of Gaeta 
never looked backward. The pomp and show of 
royalty had never appealed to her, and she indulged 
in no vain regrets. 

The lives of the Wittelsbach sisters had proved 
a source of grief and anxiety to their parents. 
Helene, left a widow in 1867, after ten years of un- 
happy married life, had managed the vast estates 
of the Thurn and Taxis family with great ability 
during the minority of her eldest son, Maximilian. 
This prince, a most promising youth, died in 1885, 
at the early age of twenty-three, and the blow 
% almost cost his despairing mother her reason, while 
the following year, Count Ludwig of Trani drowned 
himself in one of the Swiss lakes. 

The youngest daughter of the ducal pair, Sophie 
Charlotte, had been first betrothed to Ludwig the 
Second of Bavaria; but the King jilted his cousin 
in the most heartless fashion, and she afterward 
married Ferdinand d'Alencon, an uncle of Louis 
Philippe of France. Banished from France with the 
rest of the house of Orleans, the Duke and Duchess 
spent their time travelling from place to place, and 
Sophie was sickly and discontented, a victim to fits 

[no] 



ROYALTY IN EXILE 



of melancholia. By his death on the fourteenth of 
November, 1888, good Duke Max was spared the 
tragedy of Mayerling, where his favorite grandson 
and the hope of the Austrian Empire, Rudolf of 
Hapsburg, met with a violent and mysterious death 
three months later. On the twenty-fourth of Jan- 
uary, 1890, the Duchess Ludovica was seized with 
an attack of influenza at her palace in Munich, 
which developed into pneumonia. The physicians 
at once pronounced her condition serious on account 
of her advanced age, and the absent daughters were 
telegraphed for. Sophie was already in Munich, 
as were the three sons. The next afternoon the 
Duchess grew so much worse that the sacrament 
was administered; but in spite of the evident ap- 
proach of death the indomitable old lady refused to 
go to bed. She insisted upon remaining in the 
reclining chair which she had occupied from the be- 
ginning of her illness, and where she soon sank into 
unconsciousness, passing away quietly at four o'clock 
in the morning, surrounded by children, grand- 
children, and great-grandchildren, at the age of 
eighty-three. The death of the Duchess Ludovica 
was an irreparable loss to her family. They had 
leaned on her in joy as in sorrow, and as long as she 
lived she had held them together, widely scattered 
as they were, with a firm and loving hand. Her 
children's troubles and pleasures had been her own, 
and their devotion, her joy and reward. 



[mi 



Chapter XV 

Conclusion 



AFTER the funeral of the Duchess Ludovica, 
A\ Maria Sophia returned to Paris, where the 
ex-King of Naples had bought a residence 
some years before, and where they were living very 
quietly, seeing no one but old friends or relatives. 
Her grief at her mother's loss was deep and sincere, 
and for a time she was inconsolable. For her it 
meant the severing of all the old ties and associations; 
and henceforth she rarely visited the home of her 
childhood. 

A few months later Helene of Thurn and Taxis 
died after a long and painful illness, at the age of 
fifty-eight. The Empress Elizabeth had hastened 
to her and was with her when she died, but none of 
the three younger sisters were able to be present. 

In the Autumn of 1894 the ex-King of Naples 
went to the baths at Arco in the Tyrol for his health, 
while his wife remained in Paris. Francis had suf- 
fered for several years with an incurable complaint, 
and it was reported that his illness had recently 
taken a serious turn; but this had been denied. 
Death came sooner than any one expected, however, 
to the unfortunate monarch, for he expired on the 

[112] 



CONCLUSION 



twenty-seventh of December — alone, as he had 
lived. Maria Sophia started at once for Arco on 
the news of his illness, but arrived too late to find 
him alive. 

Not a flag was lowered in the kingdom of his 
fathers to mark the death of Francis the Second 
of Naples, nor was his body even allowed to rest in 
the land he had loved. In all his vicissitudes, the 
long years of exile, and the hours of loneliness and 
pain, Italy had been ever in his heart. Through all 
his wanderings he had been haunted by memories 
of the blue skies and sunny gardens of his childhood 
days. His love for his native land extended even 
beyond the grave, for in his will he bequeathed a 
million lire to charitable institutions in Naples and 
Palermo. 

Duke Karl Theodor and his wife, with several other 
members of Maria Theresa's family, hastened at once 
to Arco to comfort Maria Sophia and be present 
at the ex-King's funeral. It took place on the third 
of January, 1895, and was attended by a large num- 
ber of royalties and other distinguished personages. 

In the bright Winter sunshine the body of Francis 
the Second was borne to the cathedral where it was 
to be laid to rest. The narrow streets were thronged 
with black-garbed men and women, and bells were 
tolled in all the churches, while the trumpets of the 
two battalions of Austrian Jagers sent by the Emperor 
Francis Joseph, to pay the last honors to the de- 
ceased sovereign, sounded a farewell. At the door 

[113] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



of the church the procession was met by the ex-Queen 
with her sisters, Mathilde and Sophie, with several 
of her sisters-in-law, and other noble ladies who 
formed the band of mourners. The services lasted 
five hours, and were conducted by the Archbishop of 
Trent; but at last all was ended, the dim cathedral 
was left silent and empty, and only the sound of tolling 
bells echoed mournfully through the wintry air. 

The life of Francis the Second of Naples was one 
of renunciation. Little sympathy or affection fell 
to his lot. He was arbitrary where he should have 
been yielding, and yielding where he should have 
been firm; yet during his short reign he was one of 
the most conspicuous figures in European politics, 
and he had carried a kingdom with him in his down- 
fall. He was a good man and a good Christian, 
and, in spite of his shortcomings, a real hero; for 
while his heart was bleeding, he bore his sorrows in 
silence and hid his sufferings from the world. 

Although Maria Sophia had never really loved her 
husband, a close and sincere friendship had grown 
up between them, and she truly mourned his death. 
After the funeral she returned with her brother and 
his wife to Munich, where for a time she occupied 
her old residence, the Schloss Biederstein; but now 
that she was alone the thought of living there was 
unbearable to her. 

The claims of the ex-King to the throne of Naples 
passed at his death to Alfonzo, Count of Caserta; 

[in] 



CONCLUSION 



and while Francis had left his wife a large sum of 
money, the bulk of his fortune had been bequeathed 
to this brother whose marriage had been blessed 
with ten children. The residence in Paris occupied 
by the royal pair had been included in this; and as 
Maria Sophia wished to be free to live her own life, 
she bought an estate at Neuilly-sur-Seine, where 
she lives quite alone the greater part of the year. 
She rarely goes to Bavaria, but spends a few weeks 
each winter at Arco. It was her intention originally 
to have her husband's body removed to her family 
burial-place in Tegernsee; but the last King of 
Naples still sleeps before the high altar in the cathe- 
dral of the little Tyrolean town. This quiet spot 
has grown dear to the ex-Queen, and she mixes 
freely and pleasantly with the people who go there 
for the baths. She is still a distinguished woman, — 
distinguished in the best sense of the word, — with 
much of that charm that is like a reflection of the 
past. Most of her time, however, she devotes to 
the real passion of her life, her farm, where she raises 
thoroughbred dogs and horses. Maria Sophia is 
not a recluse; but she lives in a world of her own, 
and cares for animals more than for people. In 
former days her sisters used often to visit her at 
Neuilly, the Duchess d'Alentpon then living in Paris, 
and the Empress Elizabeth and Countess of Trani 
frequently stopping there on their journeys. 

The portraits of these four sisters plainly show 
their differences of character. Mathilde of Trani 

[us] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



is the picture of discontent and disillusionment; 
Elizabeth is the mourner; Sophie d'Alen^on is resigned 
and weary of the world, while Maria, unlike all the 
others, looks bravely out at life, despite her years. 

She accepted the decrees of fate with courage and 
fortitude, and bore her troubles more philosophically 
than her sisters, therefore she has kept her cheerful- 
ness and serenity, and much of her former beauty. 
She is always active, for she still feels young. But 
her solitary life and her preference for the society 
of animals to people, show that the life of this gayest 
and soundest of the Wittelsbach sisters has also been 
a tragedy. 

Three years after the death of the ex-King of 
Naples, another terrible misfortune occurred in the 
family. On the fourth of May, 1897, the French 
capital was the scene of a most frightful catastrophe. 
The ladies of the French aristocracy were holding a 
bazaar for charity, in a building which had been 
roughly and carelessly constructed, and lined with 
booths in which many prominent society women 
sold wares donated for the purpose. A kinemato- 
graph had also been installed to add to the enter- 
tainment. In the middle of the afternoon, when the 
crowd was greatest, a lamp attached to this suddenly 
burst, and in an instant the whole building was in 
flames. The exits were insufficient and hard to 
find, and scores of people perished. 

Among the most prominent of the workers was 

[n6] 



CONCLUSION 



Sophie, Duchess d'Alenfon, who was a devout 
Catholic and had devoted the latter years of her 
life almost entirely to charity. Witnesses of the 
scene of horror who escaped with their lives have 
told of the Duchess's heroism in attempting to save 
others, forgetful of her own danger. One lady tried 
to carry her out by force; but she broke away, and 
dashing back into the flames, took her place in her 
own booth again, calmly assisting in getting the 
young girls into a place of safety. 

All that night it was hoped that she, too, had 
succeeded in making her escape. But the next day 
a wedding ring, bearing the name of Ferdinand 
d'Alencpon, was found in the ruins and all hope of find- 
ing her alive was abandoned. Her body, burned 
beyond all recognition, was afterward identified by 
a dentist who had supplied her with some false teeth 
shortly before. Maria Sophia was in Neuilly at the 
time of the accident, and her appearance with the 
Duke d'Alenfon, at the requiem mass held in memory 
of the dead in the Church of St. Philippe de Rule, was 
her last public appearance in the world. When the 
Empress Elizabeth, who fell by the hand of an assas- 
sin on the shore of Lake Geneva a year later, was 
laid away in the vault of the Capucins at Vienna, 
Maria Sophia was unable to be present. Only in 
spirit could she bid farewell to this favorite sister, 
under whose cold and reserved exterior had beaten 
a warm and loving heart. 



[117] 



QUEEN MARIA SOPHIA 



Many years have passed since the Rose of Starn- 
berg Lake was planted at the foot of Vesuvius, many 
since Francis the Second's tottering throne collapsed, 
burying the hopes of a lifetime. But time has 
treated Maria Sophia gently. If she has wept 
bitter tears, the world has seen no trace of them. 
Her smile is still that of the beautiful young Queen 
of Naples, and she has kept that youth of the heart 
that never fades. But what her thoughts are as 
she goes about among her pets, no one knows. Does 
she still see Gaeta at times behind its dark, receding 
cliffs? Perhaps, for it was there that she displayed 
for the first and only time the gifts with which Prov- 
idence had endowed her, and the supreme moments 
of life one does not forget. 

The romance of Maria Sophia's life ended at 
Gaeta: forced from the world's stage with all the 
splendid promise of her youth unfulfilled, she has 
never since taken part in the affairs of men. Yet 
she is not morbid or unhappy. She looks back 
upon her life without bitterness, and if her heart 
has longings, it is not for her vanished crown and 
sceptre. 

The struggle for Italian unity has given place to 
other and newer events in the world's history. The 
Queen of Naples has hidden her royal honors under 
the modest title of Duchess of Castro. When she 
dies, an almost forgotten episode will be revived and 
the " Heroine of Gaeta" recalled to the memory of 
men; but only the gray-haired soldiers who knew 

[118] 



CONCLUSION 



and served under the young Queen will remember 
how gay and brilliant she was, will see her again in 
all her fresh young beauty. 

Maria Sophia was a heroine but for a day; but 
time has no power to touch her memory. Clothed 
in the radiance of perpetual youth, she stands a 
glowing figure in the annals of history. 



[119] 



2tppenMs 



The following is a chronological statement of the 
principal events connected with this narrative: 

1807 Birth of Garibaldi. 

1 8 10 Birth of Ferdinand the Second. 

1836 Birth of Francis the Second. 

1859 Death of Ferdinand the Second. 

1859 Francis the Second succeeds to the Throne. 

1859 Beginning of the Italian Revolution. 

1859 Battles of Magenta and Solferino. 

1860 Garibaldi Dictator of Sicily. 
i860 Garibaldi enters Naples. 

i860 Francis the Second driven from Naples. 

i860 Annexation of Central Italy to Sardinia. 

1860 Outbreak of Revolution in Lower Italy. 

1 861 Surrender of Gaeta. 

1861 Victor Emanuel proclaimed King of Italy. 

1862 Garibaldi invades Sicily. 
1862 Garibaldi defeated and retires. 

1866 French Garrison withdrawn from Rome. 

1870 Victor Emanuel occupies Rome. 

1882 Death of Garibaldi. 



[121] 



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